


Prompt Madness

by Skyler



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Drabble Collection, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Group Sex, Light BDSM, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2018-04-30 21:56:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 34
Words: 69,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5181146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyler/pseuds/Skyler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of the various LoK prompts I get from tumblr. Some are loosely related to one another, others are just...off the wall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Immersive Theater (Korrasami)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _LoK and immersive theatre. Someone (or someones) in the show, other(s) as first time audience member(s). Leaving the numbers and participants vague enough that you can mix and match the relationship(s)._

Asami ducked out of the theater as quietly as she could, flinching against the bite of the cold winter air. Hours one and two of the play had been bad enough. Hour three was where she had enough, and freezing on the street became a preferable alternative to yet another countertenor solo.

With the wind at her back, she drifted down the sidewalk, cinching her coat tighter around her waist while she bought some tea from a stand. It helped greatly, and along with the warm air coming up from vents in the ground she was able to walk quite comfortably.

It wasn’t until a heel snapped that she felt the need to duck in somewhere. She looked around and saw she had wandered into the livelier, artsier section of the theater district, the part that most of the people she rubbed shoulders with looked down on. Asami had no strong opinion on it, and at that moment only cared if there was a seat inside where she could change into the flats in her purse.

She settled on the building in front of her, one with an almost intentionally run-down look about it. Old playbills were stuck to the wall on either side of the front door, and she slipped inside before another gust of wind could hit her.  
Well, it was a theater, though a far cry from the one she had just snuck out of. That certainly didn’t bother Asami. A few rows of chairs, with maybe half of them filled, made up at least three quarters of the room, which seemed to be the only room in the building, while the stage was barely more than a step higher than the rest of the floor. The curtain was heavily stitched together, giving it a bright, patchwork quality.

The door shut behind her, and the actors on the stage all wheeled toward it. Asami tried to shrink against the wall, but it was too late. One of the performers, a brown-skinned woman with shoulder-length hair and the brightest blue eyes Asami had ever seen, leveled an accusatory finger at her, while the others looked on in shock.

“And there she is!”

She hopped down off the stage and marched to the back of the room, and Asami saw she was trying very hard not to laugh. Her voice dropped to a smaller, quieter whisper, while everyone else pretended not to watch them. “We’re doing some…interactive stuff here, want to help us out?”

Asami paused for a moment. She was cold, leaning to one side with her broken heel, and had a thoroughly long day ahead of her in the morning. On the other hand, the woman in front of her was almost painfully cute, waiting for her answer in earnest.

“Sure,” Asami said, taking her hand.

“Great, thanks!” The woman brought her along the center aisle, keeping the same enthusiastic tone while slipping back to looking dead serious. “It’s a murder mystery. You didn’t do it, but look like you did. I’m Korra, by the way.”

“Asami.”

The house lights weren’t completely off, and the spotlights on the stage were at about the same power. It made the whole room feel connected, and the stage seemed more like a natural extension of the space than a divided part. There were a few other people on the stage, two guys that looked like they might have been brothers and another woman with her hair pulled back in a tight, severe braid, but it was Korra who whipped around and addressed her again.  
“Well, the great Lady Himiko,” she said, waggling her finger once more and returning to a projecting, theatrical voice. “I would have thought by now you’d be at the life insurance office, collecting your windfall!”

At no point did their play get any less campy. It was silly, irreverent, and most of all, fun. The rest of the actors meshed so well that she wasn’t sure what was scripted and what they were making up. Asami improvised through a few scenes until her character was killed off quite unceremoniously, leaving her watching from behind the curtain as the process repeated with another audience member until Korra’s character was outed as the killer. She watched them give chase through the audience, with Korra grabbing various people as human shields until she was hauled off on the opposite side of the stage, which entailed nearly walking into a wall to hide behind the curtain. Korra winked at her from across the stage, and Asami busied herself with looking through her purse to hide a blush.

Once the curtain fell and the audience began filing out into the night, Asami picked herself up and stuffed her broken heel into a coat pocket. She was working a kink out of her neck when Korra came up to her, having found somewhere to change into a proper jacket and put her hair back. “Hey, thanks for helping us out tonight,” she said, bouncing from one heel to the other.

Asami smiled and fixed her purse strap. “I had a lot of fun. I don’t know how you guys keep from cracking up in the middle of all this.”

“We get most of it out in rehearsal.” Korra fiddled with a button on her jacket. “So, um…we usually go buy drinks for the people we conscript in the middle of things, but Mako’s breaking things down here and Bolin and Kuvira already went home.”

“That’s all right.” Asami wasn’t sure why she would bother mentioning that only to cut it off. “This has already been a much better night than the one I had planned.”

“But I was wondering if you’d like to get a drink with me?” Korra blurted out, her face going as red as her jacket. “I mean I know I just met you and I kind of pulled you into this off the street—”

“Hey, hey!”

Korra’s mouth snapped shut as if she were biting back more words, and she only looked at Asami nervously. She smiled, and Korra breathed a sigh of relief. That was a much better look for her than nervousness. “I’d love to.”


	2. Thick vs. Thin Crust (Makorra, Bosami)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _Something where the LoK characters have a disagreement over which is better - thick or thin crust pizza._

“No way! They’ll fry the bottom, we might as well eat stucco!”

Korra’s fist slammed into the table with such force that the napkin holder rattled and fell on its side. Mako tried to sink far enough into the seat beside her to disappear, but to no avail. Bolin looked at him from across the table as if he could put a stop to his girlfriend’s antics, but Mako only gave him the same look in return. They were both at fault, he knew. No more double dates.

“And you want the crust so thick we’ll be chewing through raw dough!” Asami shot back, pointing insistently but delicately at the menu.

Bolin put a hand on Asami’s shoulder and turned to their waitress. “We’re going to need a few minutes.”

Kuvira rolled her eyes and went to another table that could handle the complex act of ordering food. Mako thought of excusing himself and tripping over something, anything that would put an end to this ridiculous fight. He started to slide out of their booth, but a hand tightened around his arm, and he knew he was stuck.

“I said, what do you think, Mako?” Korra asked. He knew the right answer here, but even so, there was a flash of desire to throw her a curveball and go against what she wanted, if only for the sheer perversity of it. Not that that would end well, he thought.

“I like the thick crust,” he said, resting his chin on his hand. “It’s the best place to put more cheese.”

Asami scoffed. “You and your cheese.”

Sometimes he wondered if he needed more friends, ones that didn’t know everything about one another. Their little group was on the borderline as it was, with him having dated Asami and now Korra, who had also dated Asami and Bolin, who was now with Asami. Explaining it to anyone outside of their circle required at least one diagram and a great deal of patience.

_I need a less incestuous group of friends._

“Well, I’m fine with the thin crust,” Bolin said, looking similarly sure that this conversation would be going nowhere slowly.

“Oh, big surprise,” Korra muttered. “It falls apart like drywall!”

“Better than gumming up your mouth!” Asami countered.

“Thick!”

“Thin!”

“Okay,” Kuvira said, returning to their table as she impatiently tapped her pen against her order pad. “Su said you either order something and stop yelling or get the hell out. Your call.”

Korra was ready to start up again, but Mako put an arm around her and jostled her into silence. This was the only night off they all had and he had no intention of letting some dough be its ruin. “All right, can we just…can we get one thick crust pie and one thin with half of each on one platter? We can box up the rest.”

Kuvira shrugged and wrote it down. “Whatever. They don’t pay me enough to do this job…”

Their order came faster than Mako would have expected, likely to get them fed and get them out quickly if he had to guess. Kuvira set the platter in the middle of the table and put a takeaway box with the rest beside it. “You know, we have regular crust, too.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Mako looked pointedly to the entrance, intent on getting back at both of them. “Hey Korra, is that your dad?”

She and Asami glanced over, and quickly, as quickly and as quietly as he could, Mako spun the platter around in front of a panicking Bolin. He looked at the pizza, terrified, while Korra and Asami settled back in.

“No…that guy’s our age,” Korra said, working a slice onto her plate. Mako, Asami and Bolin did the same, and both brothers watched as inconspicuously as they could manage as their dates took their first bites.

Asami furrowed her brow as she took slow, methodical chews, trying to pick out what was different about it. “This is—”

“Crispy,” Korra said, taking almost a third of her slice in a single bite. “It’s…good! Kuvira must have turned it around by accident.”

“Yeah, this isn’t half-bad,” Asami said. “Chewy.”

Mako rolled his eyes, but still scooted closer to Korra to nuzzle her cheek.


	3. NYC Vacation (Borra)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _The Krew on vacation in NYC._

Bolin was the first one off the train, just as he had been the first one on. The hustle and bustle of the platform hit him immediately, as it did for Mako, Korra and Asami when they disembarked behind him. “Can you feel it?” he asked, ducking out of the way of a stream of commuters.

“I can sure smell it,” Mako said, pulling his scarf up over his nose. Asami punched him in the arm.

“Come on, let’s try to enjoy ourselves, this is our vacation.” They got up the stairs and, after accidentally winding up in the Amtrak terminal, found their way to the street outside Penn Station. A gust of wind blew by, taking them all by surprise. Buildings towered around them, and car horns and conversations in a dozen different languages hit them all at once. “So, where to?”

Mako looked at the map on his phone. “Well, we’re in Midtown, there’s nothing south of Central Park that’s too far away.”

“Oohh, let’s go there!” Bolin said, pointing to a large stone building that took up most of the next block. Korra wrapped her arms around him in a hug from behind.

“Honey…that’s a post office.”

“But it’s huge! Okay, okay. Let’s go to Times Square! Um, which way is it?”

“I think we need to go that way,” Mako said, pointing along Thirty-Fourth Street. That was good enough for Bolin, and he started off, leaving the others to catch up with him.

It was not, in fact, the way they needed to go, and several adjustments only found them outside the front gate of the UN. A guard at least set them in the right direction, back down along Forty-Sixth Street. Mako grumbled and insisted his map had been wrong while they waited for a light to change.

The enormous monitors lining Times Square dwarfed them and everything nearby, lighting up the streets and passersby in bright neon. Sunset was still far off, and they didn’t get the full effect, but even Bolin admitted it would be silly to stick around for hours.

Korra and Mako had a frantic footrace through Central Park, where they almost crashed through a wedding party in Strawberry Fields. A few dogs off their leashes saw the action, and their race quickly turned into a chase that only ended when the dogs’ owners caught up to them.

“I won!” Korra said.

“What? That’s ridiculous, neither of us won, we were being chased by dogs!”

“And I ran faster, so I won.”

Neither Bolin nor Asami could decide when they returned for arbitration, and instead seemed much more interested in the hot dogs they got from a stand nearby. “And you didn’t get me one?” Korra asked, incredulous before darting over to the stand.

“I don’t care what she says, she didn’t win,” Mako mumbled. “Should we go check in at the hotel?”

Asami shrugged. “I asked for a late check-in, they’re holding the rooms until midnight. We still have plenty of time. Your turn to pick something to do, Mako.”

Bolin looked horrified and pointed ineffectually all around him as Korra returned with a hot dog that was more topping than anything. “Don’t worry, we’ve got a whole week here,” Korra said with a light hip check, mouth half-full.

“Hey, how’d you get chili on yours?”

Mako adjusted his scarf and fixed it more tightly as the temperature began to drop. “There is one thing I wanted to do.”

Unfortunately, waiting on line to get to the roof of the Empire State Building was not something anyone wanted to do. It was better than walking around in the cold, though, and the line was still enough for Korra to lean on Bolin to work out a cramp in her leg. Mako shrunk against the wall, but Asami curled against his side, promising him that waiting in line wasn’t as big a deal as he thought.

The sun had set by the time they piled into the elevator, and they could almost feel the air grow colder around them as they approached the roof. All of them pulled their coats tighter while they huddled together. “Maybe this would’ve been better as a summer thing,” Asami murmured, watching her breath swirl in front of her.

Korra dismissed the suggestion with a wave of her hand. “It’s not that bad.”

“The woman from Nunavut isn’t cold, shocking,” Asami said dryly.

“What, it doesn’t get cold in Sapporo?”

“Not this cold!”

There wasn’t time for Korra to reply before the elevator doors opened onto the roof. She stepped out slowly, lacing up her fingers with Bolin’s, and their lips almost chapped then and there. Mako and Asami followed them, still flush against one another for warmth. Countless pinpricks of light from the surrounding buildings lit up the black sky, and the view from the edge of the observation deck was truly dizzying.

“Wow,” Bolin said through a whistle. “Makes you feel so small.”

He led them slowly around the deck, taking in the evening sights of Queens and Jersey City on either side. They picked out the edge of Times Square, lit like a beacon to the north, and even Mako had to admit how incredible it looked at night. Bolin bumped him with his elbow as he held Korra to his side. “And you wanted to go to  _Rome_.”


	4. Wine Trail (Borra)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _The Krew do a wine trail_

“Wait, you’ve been  _drinking_ the wine?”

Bolin groaned and ran his hand through his hair while Korra tried not to smile and poked him in the chest. “Mmmmaybe.”

“What were we supposed to do?” Asami asked, wavering back and forth. “Spit it out?”

“Yes!” Mako said, loudly enough to attract the attention of the rest of their group. “Why do you think they gave us the bucket?”

Korra looked at it, blinking slowly as she did. “I thought that was if someone had  _too_  much wine.”

“Sweetie, didn’t you notice that Mako and I were spitting out each mouthful?” Bolin asked, stepping to her side to keep his girlfriend upright.

“We figured that was because you didn’t like them,” Asami said, holding onto the wall for support. “Didn’t we pay for the wine?”

Mako rolled his eyes. “No, we didn’t! We paid for the tastings and the shuttle between the wineries…should’ve stayed in Manhattan.”

“What do you want to do?” Bolin asked. “Take them back to the hotel?”

“I don’t think they’ll let us into the last place with them looking the way they—they…”

Bolin glanced at whatever was stunning Mako into silence and felt his face flush. Korra was nipping lightly at Asami’s throat, provoking quick, ticklish giggles as she moved upward.

“Doesn’t that bother you?” Mako asked, unable to look away as Asami started nibbling on Korra’s lower lip.

“I know it should, but—” Korra’s hand slipped under Asami’s jacket— “Okay now it’s bothering me.”

He separated them, hiking Korra up over his shoulder while she pounded ineffectually on his back. “Come on Korra, let’s go. You know you can’t handle that much alcohol, why’d you drink it all?”

“That is an offensive stereotype,” she said indignantly, pointing an accusatory finger toward the back of his legs. “We’re not all alcoholics. There’s just nothing else to do in Nunavut!”

“I’m not stereotyping anyone, you can’t handle your liquor!”

Korra scoffed while Mako put Asami’s arm over his shoulder and started leading them out. “Prove it!”

 _Why am I having this argument?_  “What, Drunken Bisexual Moment Number Three isn’t proof enough? Come on, it’s a long walk back to the train station.”

He and Mako garnered some askance looks as they walked through Greenport to the train. Asami was able to walk unassisted after a few blocks, but Korra wouldn’t stop alternating between bouts of laughing and demanding to be put down.

“Hey, hey Bolin.”

“I’ll put you down on the train, honey.”

“Your butt looks really good from this angle,” she said, fighting back more giggles.

Bolin sighed, and then yelped as she reached down and grabbed him. He supposed it wasn’t her usual vantage point, and it was a rather different view when he glanced to his side. “Yeah. Right back at you.”

She grew quieter as they walked, humming occasionally to let Bolin know that she hadn’t passed out. The station appeared around a corner after the better part of an hour, and there was only a brief wait for the next train back to Manhattan. Asami slumped into a window seat and passed out almost immediately, and Mako put his scarf between her cheek and the window before sitting down.

In the row right behind them, Bolin set Korra carefully into her seat, where she leaned forward until her forehead was pressed against the back of Asami’s seat. Bolin settled in next to her and took a bottle of water from his jacket.

“Here, have some of this. It’ll blunt your inevitable hangover a bit.”

Korra took it without resistance and drained a third of the bottle before handing it back. She leaned against Bolin’s shoulder, clumsily pawing for his hand as the train doors began to close.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, wrapping her arms around his elbow.

“What for?”

“Because I ruined the day and now you’re mad at me.”

“No, no.” Bolin kissed the top of her head, and she squeezed tighter. “I’m not mad at you. To be honest I don’t think wine tasting is incredibly exciting. You didn’t ruin anything. Just close your eyes, we’ll be back at the hotel soon and you can sleep it off.”

“Love you,” she said, holding back a yawn.

He rested his cheek against the top of her head and closed his eyes. “Love you too.”


	5. Renaissance Faire (Korrasami, Bopal, Makuvira)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _The Krew check out a Renaissance Faire._

“You don’t think this looks dumb?”

Korra shrugged as she laced up the back of Asami’s gown. “We all look dumb. That’s the point!”

“And how come I’m the damsel and you’re the knight?” she asked. “This is really…form-fitting.”

“Because you’re too tall and willowy for the armor.” Korra clapped the front of her chest plate, letting the metal  _clang_ against her hand. “The dress is sexy, anyway.”

“I sure feel dumb,” Mako said, tugging at the hood of his monk’s costume. “The cloth is itchy, too.”

“Well, you wanted to be the friar.” Korra glanced back at him while she cinched the gown over Asami’s hips. “Do you want to try the dress?”

Mako grumbled, and Bolin whacked him in the arm with his wizard’s staff. “Don’t be a spoilsport, this giant fake beard is itchier than anything you’ve got on. Looking dumb is part of the fun!”

“Then I’m having a hell of a time.”

It was only after Mako had wrangled them into his car that they discovered Korra’s armor didn’t allow her to sit down without taking up the entire back row. She humbly offered Asami a spot on her lap until they both realized how uncomfortable that would become, and it was another fifteen minutes of removing armor before they could leave.

“Why are you wearing chainmail under that?” Mako asked as Bolin got the chest plate over her head.

“Ugh, if you had your way you’d just be wearing your ROTC shirt and khakis. It’s gotta be authentic!”

“What authentic? We’re taking my Civic, not horses.”

Korra rolled her eyes and got her armor in the trunk before jumping back into her seat. “You can still sit on my lap, you know.”

She settled for Asami nuzzling into her shoulder while they sped down the highway. Bolin practiced pronouncing his spells, occasionally striking his staff on the car ceiling when he mimed the accompanying motions. Every time he heard it scratch the fabric, Mako got closer and closer to ripping that stupid beard off his face and flinging it out the window. The renaissance fair was never his idea of a great weekend outing, but his barbecue suggestion had been voted down.

“Hey, Korra, put your authenticity on hold for a minute and tell me what exit I have to take.”

“Okay.” She took her phone from one of the pockets in the chainmail, making a great deal of noise in the process. “Fifty-two.”

She could only hear him slam into his headrest. “What?”

“We’re coming up on fifty-four. I swear I’m just doing paperwork with Lin next weekend…”

“You know, Opal already thinks you two are hooking up, you’re in her office enough,” Bolin said. Mako reached over and started punching him in the arm. “Ah, easy! Watch the road!”

“Let’s turn around at the next exit,” Asami said. “It’s not that far back.”

The next exit, they discovered, led to yet another divided highway, and they only ended up going back the way they came after another twenty minutes of sharp turns and pushing into turning lanes. Korra was happy to give directions from the back seat, helpful as often as they were harmful, and Mako could never tell which it was going to be.

“Give the phone to Asami, you’re worse at navigating than you are at driving.”

“Hey, I got my license,” Korra said, but handed over the phone all the same.

“After what, the seventh try?”

She jabbed the back of his seat.

No one had mentioned to Mako that parking wasn’t free, and they all mysteriously fell mute when it came time to pay the attendant. Sure, he had wanted to get blind-spot mirrors, but this was just as worthwhile, he thought. Once they were parked, he popped the trunk and let Asami and Bolin work Korra back into her armor, making her a shambling mess of metal and leather. Not that it didn’t look good—she had spent too many hours in the metal shop to have brought shoddy work—but he wasn’t even sure how she could move in the stuff, much less be comfortable.

Korra bound her hair in a simple topknot and posed for a moment with her helmet under her arm. “So? How do I look?”

“Like an Inuit Joan of Arc,” Asami said, kissing her on the cheek.

“Well, let’s hope I get out of here a little less crispy. Got everything, Bolin?”

“It’s Merlin!” he insisted, brandishing his staff at them like a long cane.

Mako followed behind them into the fair proper, where a team of jugglers with flaming axes seized their attention. They had to hold Korra back from attempting it herself, and found that her armor was surprisingly difficult to get a grip on. “ _No_ , Korra,” Asami said firmly, holding her by a leather strap dangling from under her arm. “I can’t explain any more scars to your parents. They’re going to start thinking I’m abusing you.”

“Doesn’t it bother anyone else that this is more like the late Middle Ages than the Renai—”

“No,” they all said in unison, heading Mako off before he could poke any holes in the day.

Worried that Korra would keep trying to show up the jugglers, Asami steered them father into the fairgrounds. She deftly avoided the sword-swallowers—although Korra’s interest in that would be suspect at best, Asami thought—and they found themselves in an open food court. That distracted Korra well enough, and they soon had larger drumsticks than any of them had ever seen. Bolin and Asami wandered off to look through some of the stalls selling things, leaving Mako and Korra at one of the benches while they regretted not grabbing plates.

“How are you not overheating in that stuff?” Mako asked, nudging the mail on her arm.

“I dunno, I guess I’m well-insulated and it’s a really mild day. Cooler than when we left Oneonta, too.”

He nodded and turned his drumstick over, looking for a good spot to bite, when he felt a short, wet kiss on his cheek. “Hey! You couldn’t do that  _before_ you had a mouthful of turkey grease?”

“Thanks for driving,” Korra said, bumping her forehead against his shoulder. “I’m glad we can still do fun stuff like this. All of us.”

“Well, you know what they say, if you can’t stay friends with your exes after they start dating each other…” Mako trailed off and shifted in his seat, scratching at the fabric behind his neck. “As long as you’re both happy. That’s what I care about.”

“Aww.” She scooted closer to him. “And we don’t think you’re hooking up with Lin.”

“Thanks.”

“…are you?”

Mako worried for a moment that his eyes would roll right out of their sockets. “No! It’s this poli-sci major in my ROTC unit if you’re so hell-bent on knowing, so can we stop the insinuations?”

There was a long moment when Korra tried to run through that list of people in her head, but Asami and Bolin returned before she could hazard any guesses. Asami slipped a necklace over her head and into place, the cool blue stone providing a pleasant flush between her collarbones. “What’s this?”

“Turquoise,” Asami said, planting a light kiss on the nape of her neck that made Korra tremble.

Bolin held up a similar necklace, thought its stone was a lighter amber with a large facet on the front. “And I got opal, for Opal.”

“You really lucked out on that one, bro.”

Korra tore one large bite from her drumstick and stood up, pointing with it to another part of the field they were in. “Jousting contest! You can’t stop me from doing this one, Asami! I’m all kitted out and everything!”

Some hours later, when things were closing up for the evening, a thoroughly battered Korra limped back to the parking field, held up by Mako on one side and Asami on the other. Every step she took was accompanied by a low groan, and both of them cringed at hearing her in pain.

“Was that really worth it?” Asami asked, trying to get a better grip on one of Korra’s gauntlets.

“I won, didn’t I? And did you see the lance I got for first place?”

“It’s really heavy,” Bolin said from behind them, trying to keep it balanced on his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah. My headstrong little knight.”


	6. Whitewater Rafting (Korrasami, Bopal, Makuvira)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _The Krew try whitewater rafting._

“You want to do  _what_?”

Asami glanced at Opal before they both turned back to Korra and Kuvira and the oversized paddles they had on their shoulders. Their smiles worried Asami; the last time Korra grinned like that, she had been beaten half to hell in a jousting contest.

“Rafting!” Korra said again. “Bolin’s got work, Mako’s being Mako, and we need four people. It’ll be fun!”

“Isn’t this basically flinging yourself down a river and fighting to stay above the water?” Opal asked.

Korra nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! It’s a class one course because you guys have never been, but it’s still exciting.”

“Come on, sis,” Kuvira said, taking the paddle from her shoulder and nudging Opal in the arm. “Korra’s right, it’s a lot of fun. I promise you’ll have a good time.”

“I think we have very different ideas of  _fun_ , Kuv.”

“Not really, you’re dating brothers,” Korra mumbled. They both turned withering glances on her. “I’m just saying. Please, Asami?”

“Are you going to leave me to explain whatever bruises you’ll inevitably get?”

She hunched her shoulders and fiddled with her paddle. “No…”

“Are you going to ask me to take three hundred pictures for your Instagram?”

“No…”

Asami let a grin flash over her lips. “Are you going to let me find a dress for you for that wedding next month? A nice one with lace, not something where you can try to tear the sleeves off.”

Korra’s eye twitched at the prospect. “Fine…”

“Okay, I’ll try it.” She took the paddle and hefted it onto her shoulder. “But if we get killed, I’m blaming you.”

They piled into Kuvira’s Jeep after getting everything fastened to the roof rack, and after a short drive they found themselves at one of the launches on the bank of the Susquehan River. It took some adjusting to get Mako and Bolin’s life preservers to fit Asami and Opal, but once they were kitted up Korra and Kuvira blew up the raft and got it in the water.

“See?” Korra asked as she adjusted one of the straps on her helmet. “Fresh air and adrenaline, how can you beat that?”

Asami checked the buckles on her life preserver for the fourth time and shrugged. “I’m sure nothing beats the feeling of having some very thin rubber carry you down very fast water.”

“Exactly!”

Her sarcasm flew a few feet over Korra’s head, and she exchanged one last tentative look with Opal as they climbed into the raft.

“Remember, we’re not paddling for speed, the current will handle that,” Kuvira said. “We’re just steering. There aren’t many rocks on this stretch, so all we really want to do is keep from running aground.”

Opal looked at her paddle and frowned. “I’m beginning to think this wasn’t such a good idea…”

“Too late!” Korra said, pulling their fastenings loose and setting their raft on the open river.

Asami felt everything lurch as the current grabbed them, flowing along with the river that sprayed them every time the front of the raft came down into the water. They rocked from side to side as the banks of the river rushed by, and she had to admit that it was at least a little exhilarating.

They came up on a turn in the river, and she and Korra pulled their side of the raft upward while Kuvira and Opal’s paddling kept them centered. When the path straightened out, they let go of the handles, letting another spray of cold, clear water hit them. Korra called out the rocks well in advance, giving them time to weave around them. They strayed too close to the bank at one point, and a tree branch rake across Asami’s bare arm and draw a thin line of blood. It stung for a moment, but she quickly forgot about it as they took another turn.

By the time their raft burst onto the placid waters of Goodyear Lake at the end of the course, they were all hoarse from bouts of excited shouting and calling out directions. They drifted for several minutes while they all recovered, breathing heavily and leaning against the sides of the raft.

Korra glanced at her roommate, and then they both looked at Asami and Opal. “So?” she asked, unbuckling her helmet. “You didn’t die, so what’d you think?”

“I can think of worse ways to spend a frantic, sweaty twenty minutes,” Opal said with a smirk, making Kuvira grimace.

Asami took a deep breath as she nodded. “It was surprisingly fun. Beats sitting in the library, that’s for sure.”

Their arms were sore from paddling as the adrenaline wore off, but they managed to get to shore and bundle up their equipment for the trek back. Korra almost whacked herself in the head with a paddle as she looked over at Asami. “Hey, you’re bleeding.”

“Oh, it doesn’t hurt, I’ll dress it when we get back to campus,” Asami said, ineffectually wiping away some of the blood on her arm. She took a step closer to Korra and pecked her on the cheek. “Besides, it evens up the scar count. One to…what did we say, twenty-six?”

“Twenty-seven,” Korra said proudly, pulling up the side of her shirt to display a bandage just above her hip. “I fell off the rock climbing wall in the gym the other day.”

“You’re such a dork.”

Korra closed the remaining distance between them and nestled her head into the crook of Asami’s shoulder. “ _Your_  dork.”


	7. House Party (Korvira, Bopal)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _The Krew crash a house party, which gets raided by the police._

“We don’t even  _like_  Tahno, why are we going to this thing?”

Mako tugged at the collar of his shirt before Asami smoothed it back out. She laced their fingers up on the couch while Korra shook some dust off her lacrosse jacket.

“Because you and Kuvira need something else to do on a Saturday night besides paperwork, and Asami’s head is ready to burst with all the studying she’s been doing,” Korra said, slipping on the jacket once she was satisfied with its cleanliness. “And because Tahno doesn’t want us there.”

“And that doesn’t strike you as a reason to find something else to do,” Mako said dryly. “What’s it like, in your head?”

Korra thought about it for a moment before saying quite matter-of-factly, “Lots of tubas. Ready to go?” she asked, rapping her knuckles on the bathroom door. Kuvira stepped out shortly after, tossing the ROTC shirt she had changed out of across the hall and into their room. “I didn’t think anyone could pull off suspenders, babe…I was right.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to drag Bolin and Opal to this thing instead?” Kuvira asked, swatting Korra’s hand away from one suspender. “Cut that out, it’s slapping right into me.”

“You kidding? Opal practically threw me out of our room and called Bolin when I agreed to go, and I’m not going back in there to try and change their mind.” Asami shuddered. “I’ve seen way too much of Bolin’s ass to think about disturbing them. Fucking freshmen.”

“Literally.”

Korra’s joke didn’t land, and so she shuffled everyone out the door of their residence hall before they could change their minds. The house party was easy enough to find once they were off-campus, they just followed the music. It was well past eleven, and things were in full swing, complete with empty kegs and trashed coeds curled up around them on the porch.

“See? They’re having fun!”

“They’re unconscious,” Asami said.

“Okay, so they  _were_  having fun.”

No one noticed their entrance or didn’t care enough to say anything over the music. The entryway was choked with bodies moving in time with the band–”Wolf Bats” or some other such nonsense, Korra remembered–and they had to muscle their way to the slightly less crowded kitchen for drinks.

“Ugh, what is this?” Asami asked, choking down a mouthful of beer and turning the keg to find the logo. “Fire Ferret?”

Korra grimaced and wondered if it was gin she was tasting mixed in with the beer. “Okay, so nothing on tap is really stellar. The beer pong table just opened up, this swill can be incentive to play well.”

Doubles beer pong quickly devolved into Korra trying and failing to make trick shots off Mako’s nose while he and Kuvira did most of the scoring for their teams. Asami couldn’t help but laugh every time a ping-pong ball hit her partner in the face, and the one time it ricocheted properly Korra couldn’t calm down for a full five minutes. Of course, almost all of their cups were gone by that point, and Kuvira was in no state to rein her in.

The band’s next song started up with a screeching note that startled Korra, making her send the next shot into Mako’s eye. He cried out and stumbled into the table, provoking another fit of giggles from his opponents, and even Asami had to bite back a smile as she helped him up. None of them initially noticed that the ball landed in one of their three remaining cups, however, thanks to shouts from the people closer to the front of the house.

“All right, let’s break it up,” a familiar voice said as the music cut out. Korra rolled her eyes, Mako and Kuvira went pale, and Asami had to lean on the table to stay upright. “Back here too, if you don’t live here–why am I not surprised to find you here, Shuinan?”

Korra gave a brief thumbs-up to Captain Beifong while Kuvira shrank behind her. “You want winners, Cap? We’re almost done…holy shit, it landed in the cup! The eye shot landed in the cup! That’s gotta be a win, right Kuv?”

“And you two,” Beifong said, looking at Mako and nudging Korra to the side so Kuvira was visible. “I guess you  _want_  to be running laps for the rest of the semester? Because that’s what I’ll have you doing, I swear.”

“Sorry, ma’am,” Mako said.

“Sorry, Aunt Lin. Captain,” Kuvira corrected, her words slurring into one another.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Just get out of here.” She pointed to Asami. “And get that one some water before she loses it all over the street.”

Mako hiked her up over his shoulder and followed Korra and Kuvira out as they alternated leaning on one another. They briefly passed Tahno on the porch while Lin was writing him a slew of tickets, and Korra couldn’t resist sticking out her tongue as they did.

They took a side road back to campus to avoid the crowd that had left just before them, stopping several times whenever someone felt a bout of nausea coming on. Asami kept from losing it all over the street, but the night RA did look askance at them as they stumbled in with ‘ready to hurl’ written all over their faces. Mako left her with Korra and Kuvira outside the restroom, took his sock from that Bolin had borrowed from him to hang on Opal and Asami’s door, and went upstairs to his room.

“Come on, you lightweight,” Korra said, putting one of Asami’s arms over her shoulders and opening the bathroom door with her shoe. No sooner had they gotten her over a toilet than the beer came back with a vengeance, making a sickly sploshing sound as it hit the water. “Oh, that’s nice. Yuck. Uh…sorry I got you in trouble with your boss-aunt lady,” she said, forgetting the word ‘supervisor.’

Kuvira shrugged and worked a tie into Asami’s hair to keep it held back. “It’s okay. I’ll just blame your bad influence.”

“I am a  _wonderfullll_  influence,” she countered, and they paused as Asami fell silent. “You okay, honey?”

“Sleeping,” Kuvira said

Korra led while Kuvira carried her out. She dispensed with any subtlety and pounded on the door next to their own. “Got one for you, and Bolin I swear, if I see your ass again…”

There was some frantic rustling, and then Bolin slipped out of the room with a sheepish smile and his jacket on inside-out. Kuvira passed Asami off to a very flustered Opal before they went to their room. “Night, sis.”

Neither of them liked the idea of bathing the tiny dorm room in light, and so there was a great deal of fumbling before they were ready to collapse. Kuvira fell onto her bed, wondering if it was worth the energy to go get a glass of water, when Korra snaked in next to her and pressed into her back. “Hello there…”

“We might be too fuck to drunk, but I’m gonna cuddle the shit out of you,” Korra mumbled into the back of Kuvira’s neck. The somewhat economic sizing of the beds made actually sleeping together something they usually reserved for special occasions, but it felt too good to raise that point. Kuvira worked the covers over them with her feet and didn’t even mind the beer on Korra’s breath as they drifted off.


	8. The Cute Garbage Collector (Korvira)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _Kuvira lurking at the front door every monday morning to catch a glimpse of attractive garbage collector Korra and her flexing muscles as she lifts heavy trash cans._

“Can you just put the trash out? This is ridiculous.”

Kuvira shot a glare back at her sister, who only rolled her eyes. “One of these days you’re going to miss it and we’ll be stuck with garbage for another week.”

“Go back to sleep, Opal.”

“And miss you being so thirsty?” She sat on one of the couches and cinched her robe a little tighter. “Besides, when you miss the truck I want to be able to tell Dad exactly why you snuck out to the curb and brought the garbage back inside.”

“You’re not being very supportive, you know.”

“Not caring a bit that you broke right through the top of the Kinsey scale isn’t enough? Now I have to help with your hare-brained schemes? Should I keep watch and give you a signal?” Opal asked, waving her hands over her head like a semaphore. “Oh, oh, garbage truck’s coming!”

Kuvira lobbed a throw pillow at her. “There has to be an easier way to meet women. Why can’t you just go to that club downtown like a normal lesbian? Why are you staking out the garbage collector?”

“Because she’s cute and  _ripped_ ,” Kuvira mumbled, feeling a blush break over her face. “And we always have some nice banter.”

“She probably wants to figure out why you put out the trash at the last possible second like a dolt.”

“Don’t you have class to get ready for?”

Opal was going to respond, but if she did then Kuvira didn’t hear it. Her attention slipped to the sound of a diesel engine trundling down the street, drawing closer as she nearly leapt out the door with a trash can slung over each shoulder. Years of dance classes gave her some agility, but the weight spread unevenly across her back robbed her of most of the grace she was going for.

The familiar boxy blue truck with  _Fire Ferrets Sanitation_  emblazoned on the side rolled to a squeaking stop in front of her as Kuvira got to the curb. A woman with short brown hair and very well-defined arms, put on display by her tank top, hopped off the back and came up to her.

“Morning,” she said, taking the handles of the trash bins and tossing the contents one at a time into the back of the truck. The motion did wonders to accentuate the little ridges of muscle in her arms and shoulders, as did the way she hoisted them off the ground to return them to the front of the driveway. Kuvira pressed her legs together a little tighter.

“H-hi—”

“Hey Kuvira, the garbage truck with the hot girl is here!” Opal yelled from the door.

She could actually feel herself shrinking in place while rage built in her chest.  _Opal you little shit…_

“Kuvira, huh?” the woman asked with a wolfish, lopsided smile. “Nice name.”

Every last drop of blood rushed to her face. “Oh, thanks, I…my sister’s just being a twat, I don’t…fuck,” she muttered, wanting to crawl inside one of the trash cans and disappear.

“Korra, we’ve got other houses,” a man said from the cab of the truck.

“Shut up, Mako!” she shouted back. “Well. I’m Korra, as you probably heard. Maybe you’d like to get coffee sometime? After I’ve had like, a dozen showers.”

Her heart almost leapt out of her chest while she sputtered for a reply. “I…yes! Let me give you my number.”  _Opal, you magnificent bitch!_


	9. Driving (Korrasami)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _Korra has finally mastered driving a stick shift. Asami regrets teaching her._

“No no no, brake! BRAKE!”

The tires squealed against the pavement while Korra downshifted and brought them to a stop at the intersection. Asami unclenched her everything before remembering to breathe again. The car they wound up behind was maybe an inch or two from their front bumper, though she didn’t dare mention it for fear of Korra trying to shrink the distance.

“Not bad, huh?”

She was trying to be nice, Asami told herself. The driving lessons weren’t supposed to end up with Korra tearing through the streets of Republic City. They weren’t supposed to end with a new terror for everyone on the road.

“You’re doing…great, Korra,” she said, still clutching at her heart. How was she supposed to know Korra would get the hang of driving after a few hours of gentle encouragement?

“It’s really bumpy out here, though.”  _That might be because you drove over someone…_  “We should go to your test track again, that was a lot better.”

Asami didn’t have the heart to tell her that she had to hire extra earthbenders to fix the track after Korra insisted on a forty-lap time trial. “It’s getting washed down right now–”

The light turned green, and they were off. Korra started weaving through the cars in front of them, opening the clutch just enough to upshift at every opportunity. None of the cars ahead of them had even cleared the intersection before Korra tore through and went right down the middle of the next road, which was probably what prompted the lights and sirens behind them, Asami thought.

“Okay, pull over, Korra. Korra…?”

She threw them into fifth gear and kept up along the street, sparing only a fleeting glance in her mirror before she grinned. “Korra!”

“Relax, that’s Mako’s car, he’s probably just buzzing us. I’ll bet you he’s still sore because he thinks he turned us gay and now he’s giving us a hard time.”

Whatever took over Korra when she was behind the wheel, Asami didn’t like it. She looked over her shoulder, and while she couldn’t tell who was driving the cruiser behind them, it did have Mako’s number on the front.

“Yeah well, maybe we should humor him, you know? So he doesn’t arrest us.”

“Uh, Avatar?” Korra hung a hard left. “I saved this city three times, they can’t arrest me.”

“That’s not how it works! Pull over!”

Her pleas fell on deaf ears, and Korra only laughed before they ran into a traffic jam. “Oh, shit,” Korra muttered, opening the clutch and downshifting until they were at a standstill, preparing to reverse. The police cruiser skidded to a stop behind them before Korra could back up, and Asami didn’t wait to stumble out, only to see Mako running toward them from his cruiser.

“Korra, honey, I know I said I love it when you turn me into a quivering wreck, but not like this,” she said, wobbling her way over to the sidewalk.

“Where are you going?”

“You’re under arrest–Korra?”

“Hey, Mako! Pretty good driving, huh?”

He could only sputter for a moment while he searched for a response. “Korra, you’re all over the police radio, not to mention the road! You could’ve killed someone! What’s the matter with you? Who let you drive?”

“Well, I  _didn’t_  kill anyone, and Asami was teaching me,” she said, pointing a thumb over her shoulder. “Come on, you’ve got to admit, that was great for my fourth time driving.”

“I don’t have enough ink to write all the tickets I’m going to bury you under…”


	10. Kyoshi Gives Bad Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _What if Korra keeps trying to talk to one of her past lives too much, so they jsut turn into a major ass hole, whp doesn't spout out wisdom but instead is just like "eh who cares, just kill them all. It's much easier that way."_

“I don’t know, hit the one guy with the other guy? I always liked doing that.”

Kyoshi rubbed some sleep out of her eyes. Interesting as it was to see how the world had changed since her time, Korra had a bad habit of manifesting her late at night when she should have been sleeping. When  _Kyoshi_  should have sleeping. “Aren’t you tired?”

“Are you kidding?” Korra asked, leaning forward on the bed. “You were like, the coolest Avatar ever! I could listen to your stories all night!”

She groaned. Even spirits needed rest.

“Could you listen to them in the morning?”

“Nah, Tenzin always has me practicing airbending then. Oohh, oohh! How’d you deal with the uprising in Ba Sing Se?”

“Oh…I didn’t,” Kyoshi said, deciding to have a little fun. “I took the tallest girl I could find, dressed her up like me, and let her deal with the Earth King and his city.”

“What–really?”

“Indeed. That was all I intended the Kyoshi Warriors to be, an elaborate system of body doubles. Do you know how long it takes to travel around the world with a badger mole? I didn’t get a bison or a dragon. You should do something like that.”

“But where would I find that many Water Tribe women?”

“In one of the Water Tribes, I assume,” she said dryly. “And then you can take the men, dress them in silly outfits, and make your own Dai Li. That’s why I did it, anyway. It was so important to them that they preserve their ‘culture,’ so I made them into caricatures, and no one was any the wiser. The fact that they slowly became the Earth Kingdom secret police was totally out of my hands.”

Korra looked nervously at her. “And this city-state. It’s nice, but it would be nicer as an island. Make it an island, Korra! And then appoint yourself as the governor! Who’s going to argue with you? You’re the Avatar, you can just rip their heads off!”

“I’m not sure I want to do that…”

“Come on, we all changed the map somehow. Except Kuruk, that little twit. Yangchen made the Fire Nation into an archipelago, I made the island, Aang made a whole  _country_. You can’t make one measly little fortress island?”

“No!”

“Just as well. You have to do something about all the triads and the rest of the Equalists first. Have you tried killing them?”

The color drained from Korra’s face. “W-what?”

“It  _would_  solve the problem. It’s how I solved my problems.”

“You lived four hundred years ago, we can’t do that kind of thing now!” Korra said, sputtering for the words. “I…I think I’m going to talk to Aang tomorrow night.”

Kyoshi shrugged, relief washing over her. “Well, if that’s what you really want.”

She slept well that night.


	11. Christmas (Maborra) (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _So mako/bolin/korra thing. Bolin walks into the apartment to find Mako and Korra in a massive shouting argument. Bolin eventually shuts them down, turns out they were arguing over Christmas presents. But all Bolin wants is them, and Pabu._

Pabu began chittering nervously while Bolin fished his apartment keys from his pocket, and after a moment it became clear why. Through the front door he could hear a great deal of shouting and foot-stomping. His little red ferret skittered from his shoulder and down into his coat pocket, where at least there was some relief from the dulcet tones of Mako and Korra in another row.

He had half a mind to march back to the store and return all the gifts he had just bought for them when he slipped inside and their shouting match came into sharper focus. The words “crazy” and “dullard” were casually bandied about, neither of which were really accurate but still had an inkling of truth. If Mako was a calm, slow ember–or a dullard, as Korra was accusing him of being–Korra was a flash in the pan, all energy and exuberance. Not crazy, but maybe getting there sometimes.

They might not even have remembered what they were yelling about, as was the case so many other times. Whether or not they still knew, Bolin wasn’t going to have it, not today. Korra and Mako stood at opposite ends of the dining room table, pausing their fight for only a moment when they noticed him, and without a word he picked them both up in turn and set them on the couch.

“What now?” he asked, exasperated.

Mako jerked his head to the Christmas tree in the corner and the little pile of gifts underneath it. “Someone got into the presents,” he said, his voice thick, sinking into the cushions and crossing his arms.

“And?”

“And you don’t get your girlfriend of three years a little velvet box and have it  _not_  be an engagement ring,” Korra muttered, holding up a pair of diamond earrings set in white gold. They were awfully nice earrings, Bolin thought. He had much the same thought at the jeweler, three months ago.

“I bought those, Korra. Not Mako.” He felt no need to mention that he bought them for his own girlfriend before that had gone south, well past the window for returns. Bolin put his shopping bag down, hands shaking as he reached in and started tossing out his last-minute purchases. Whatever composure he had hoped to impart was quickly fading. “ _And_  the boxing gloves,  _and_  the Nunavut posters because you said you missed home,  _and_  those weird gourmet chocolates that Mako likes–and I can’t leave for two hours on Christmas Eve without you two going at each other’s throats!” he yelled, ripping off his coat and letting it drop before falling into the chair behind him. Pabu ran out of the pocket he had claimed and into the next room.

“Bolin,” Mako began. He shook his head and ran his hand through his hair, cutting off his brother.

“I’m sick of living in a powder keg.”

Korra stood and crossed the space between them in three quick steps before kneeling down and wrapping her arms around him. “Come on, honey. We’re sorry. Holidays are a very stressful time, you know.”

He didn’t want to laugh at that, he wasn’t done being upset, but the irony never failed to amuse him. “You really bought us all that stuff?”

“Of course, I want you…both happy,” he added quickly. No need to muddle up the message with his own predilections.

* * *

 

By the time they finished the third carton of eggnog, they were all well and truly buzzed. Korra sat between Mako and Bolin on the couch with her oversized Santa hat pulled down almost over her eyes, while they watched a looping TV broadcast of a burning log.

“This is a thing you do in America?” Korra asked, swishing the last of the eggnog in her glass. “Because we can go and burn stuff ourselves.”

Mako carefully plucked the glass from her hand and set it on the end table. “We probably shouldn’t– _hic_ –be around open flames right now.”

Korra huffed and rolled away from him, bumping into Bolin’s side. “Thank you for the earrings,” she purred, craning her neck slightly to nibble at his throat. Goosebumps spread across his skin like fire, and he had to stifle a gasp as she grabbed at his collar. “They really are nice…”

“Whoa, hey, wrong brother,” Bolin said, easing back. He was running out of couch. It wasn’t that he particularly wanted her to stop–he was the one who had pursued her when they all first met, but she was more interested in Mako–but it was still so out of left field, she was involved with his brother, and he was  _right there_.

Only, he didn’t seem to mind terribly. Instead Mako leaned into Korra’s other side, running a hand up under her shirt while she fumbled with his belt buckle. She moaned and her lips traveled farther up, brushing along his cheek, flicking lightly at his ear. “Touch me,” Korra breathed, undoing the buttons on his shirt. “Please…”

Bolin froze, and not only because he had run out of couch to squirm away on. He had done so well with tamping down any residual attraction ever since she started dating Mako, and now she was serving herself up on a silver platter. Maybe to both of them, which was its own can of worms that he didn’t want to ruminate on. His head was too fuzzy for much thinking, anyway. Bolin cupped her cheek and kissed her, relishing in the sweet remnants of the eggnog on Korra’s lips.

Her hungry growl spurred him on, and Bolin’s free hand drifted down to the toned muscle of her stomach, quite prominently on display after Mako had hiked her shirt up. She rolled her hips and pressed up into his touch, letting his fingers catch each little ridge in her abs. Korra broke away with a small grin and reddened cheeks before turning to his brother, kissing him while her hand shot from Bolin’s collar to his waistband. He traced up from her stomach and found her breast, slowly running his fingers over her nipple and provoking a deep, violent shudder.

“Mako…Bolin…”

 _Okay, this is weird,_  he thought. The idea of stopping never quite occurred to him, though. He undid the button on his jeans before Korra had the chance to rip it off, and she eased back from Mako to pull her shirt and bra up over her head, tossing them haphazardly under the Christmas tree. Her pants followed shortly after, leaving Korra in only a pair of Mako’s boxers before she grabbed them and led the way into her and Mako’s room.

Bolin always thought the mood lighting Mako had put in was silly, but it served its purpose remarkably well as Korra pushed them down onto the king size bed. Fuck, she was strong. “Strip,” she ordered, losing her underwear and revealing a neat strip of dark brown hair between her legs. Bolin wasn’t entirely aware of complying, but once his clothes were balled up in the corner Korra was on the bed, taking him in her mouth while her hand wrapped around Mako’s shaft, working at a maddening, languorously slow pace on both of them.

 _Not weird. Messed up. This is so messed up._  That was fine with him. Bolin ran his fingers through Korra’s hair, fiddling with the little wolf tails there, before she rolled away and descended on Mako, leaving her thumb teasing at the underside of his shaft.

“Too much eggnog,” Mako mumbled, letting his head fall back onto a pillow as his hips bucked lightly. Korra pushed him back down and turned herself so that she could reach into the drawer of Mako’s nightstand. She produced a condom and tossed it back at Bolin, swaying her hips in the air until he got the message.

“If I hear one shitty ‘Eskimo brothers’ joke, I’ll kill you both,” Korra said, pulling her head back up to work out a kink in her jaw.

Bolin was barely collected enough to get up to his knees and tear the little package open, and right then there was nothing more he wanted than to make that bad joke. “But you’re Inuit.”

“ _Just fuck me_ ,” she growled before descending on Mako again. He didn’t need to be told twice, and he had to hold her hips in place to keep her from shuddering as he eased into her. Korra’s toes curled and the muscles in her back quivered as he hit home, giving him a long, low moan when he started to move back. “Ah— _ah_ …”

She moved in counter with him, meeting when he thrusted, leaning forward when he pulled away. Bolin slid two fingers along the ridge of her spine, making her back arch as she squeezed around him. He caught Mako’s eye once—once.  _Nope. Nope. Too weird._  Instead he focused on the way Korra’s head dipped rhythmically up and down, the way she propped herself up on one elbow, the soft, hot wetness enveloping and welcoming him. He wasn’t going to last long at this rate, he knew. “Korra, slow down…”

He could feel her fingers bumping at him while she worked herself over, and the way she pressed down from her own touch wasn’t helping his stamina. Watching her get herself off was its own kind of arousing, mixing with the more physical stimulation into a heady cocktail. Behind him, her foot pounded on the bed, while tremors and moans escaped in equal measure. She was still for a moment, breathing heavily and only lavishing Mako with her tongue, before her hips started bumping into his even faster.

“Korra!”

She turned to give him a sidelong glance, pale blue eyes smoldering in the low light, and that was that. A jolt of pleasure shot up through his belly and then left as a gasp, leaving warm aftershocks coursing through his body. Bolin grabbed her hips and buried himself as deeply as he could, dipping down to kiss below her shoulder blades and catch his breath. He might have been annoyed with himself if he could have summoned a thought to care. Korra mewled as he eased back, waggling as he slipped away. “Fuck, you’re like a Coke can—ah! You almost got my eye!”

Bolin could only see her reel back and playfully whack Mako in the chest a few times. He got out a few slurred words that might have been an apology before taking a few tissues from the nightstand so he could clean her face. There was a level of dexterity in the movements of his hand that Bolin didn’t think possible with how much eggnog he had put away, but he was finished soon enough. Korra took the tissues and Bolin’s condom—slipped off quite expertly—and disappeared into the bathroom.

Mako sighed and set about fixing the pillows that they had disturbed in their haste. With a clearer head, Bolin knew this needed thinking about and talking about, though the words never quite got to his mouth. Korra strolled back in right at that moment with her hair let down, all lean, taut muscle while she reached for the light switch before crawling into the bed between them. Bolin had no idea what the…etiquette was, but he was spared having to figure it out when Korra reached around his side and pulled him closer. She pressed her back up to Mako’s chest, tangled up their legs and brought Bolin against her, kissing lightly at his neck. “Still living in a powder keg?”

“No, no powder keg,” he whispered, nuzzling in beside her.

Korra put an arm protectively over his side. “Merry Christmas, sweetie.”


	12. I'll Be Here (Kunora)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _Jinora/Kuvira, because Jinora is a beautiful cinnamon roll, too good and too pure for this world, and she can bestow this goodness via hugs. Plus I like the idea of Kuvira getting more hugs._
> 
> Okay, since apparently it isn't perfectly clear in the drabble itself, Jinora is 19 here and Kuvira is 26.

“You’re not one of Lin’s people.”

Kuvira barely picked her head up from the pillow as she spoke. She was used to cops like Bolin’s brother coming by once a week to check on her, but the girl the guards had let in didn’t look like a cop from anywhere. Rather than a uniform, she had loose, flowing robes of maroon and saffron, and pale blue arrows on her forehead and the backs of her hands. An airbender. The one that had been at Zaofu with Opal, she remembered. She looked a good deal older.

“No, I’m not. My name’s Jinora, I’m one of Korra’s friends,” she said, hesitating at the door. “Can I come in?”

The question was moot, she was already inside the cell, but Kuvira appreciated the symbolic attempt to hand back a few scraps of autonomy. She motioned to the chair tucked in under her desk. Like almost everything else around her, it was carved from a single piece of wood to eliminate the need for metal nails. Jinora smiled softly and crossed the short distance before sitting down next to her. “Are you feeling okay? It’s almost noon and you’re still in bed.”

She sat up, rolling her shoulders as she did. “There isn’t much else to do in here.” There were a few books on her desk that Korra had left for her, all thoroughly thumbed through, and a small stack of origami paper beside them. Jinora picked up one of the cranes she had folded weeks ago to smooth out a crease in one of its wings. “Who sent you? Korra’s the only person who’s actually visited me in…in…”

How long  _had_  it been? Kuvira had only the vaguest notion of the passing of time in her cell. She got two meals a day and her laundry was done every other week, but beyond that, things were hazy. She remembered the first few days in holding, her trial, the people at the courthouse calling for a harsher sentence than thirty years…not much else.

“Five years,” Jinora said. “It’s been five years. And no one sent me, I wanted to come here. I wanted to see you.”

Kuvira almost snorted out a laugh. “Did I destroy your home? Are you here to yell at me about it? Go ahead.”

She cocked her head and put the paper crane back. “Do you think you deserve to be yelled at?”

“Probably a lot worse than that,” Kuvira mumbled, drawing her knees up under her chin. “Then why  _are_ you here?”

“To see if you’re okay. Republic City got rebuilt—again—and the Earth Kingdom is still stable, but no one ever found out if you were all right.”

No matter how Kuvira scowled at her, Jinora wouldn’t drop the small, sympathetic smile she had. “I caused all of that. I’m the monster here. It doesn’t matter if I’m  _okay_ ,” she said, a bit more harshly than she intended.

“Of course it does! I…I was angry at you, for a long time,” Jinora admitted. She switched seats from the chair to the bed, settling in beside Kuvira. “I was angry that people kept attacking our city. But—”

She turned so that they were facing one another. “But I don’t want to be angry at you anymore. I read the records your army kept and talked to Bolin a lot about what happened in the Earth Kingdom, the things you had to do, and more and more it felt like you were stuck between nothing but bad options.

“Even though there were a lot of unpleasant things you did,” Jinora said, making Kuvira wince at the thought, “I think it was better than letting the country fall apart again. I’m not excusing the bad things, but I don’t feel like I can judge you for being in an untenable position like that. And I think you were trying to do a good thing, even if you got…carried away.”

Kuvira was silent for several minutes, staring into Jinora’s lap, wondering why her eyes were burning, wondering why tears were pattering onto her clothes. She had only a moment between the flash of realization and the floodgates opening. 

Prison hadn’t made her cry. The hisses and hurled trash at her trial hadn’t made her cry. The way the gaps between Korra’s visits got longer and longer before she stopped coming altogether hadn’t made her cry.

Being treated like a human being made her cry.

She didn’t much care how it made her look, she cried. She bawled her eyes out. Everything she kept pressed down all those years for the sake of her troops, for the sake of appearing more than human and giving them something to rally around, came rushing back with a vengeance. Tremors rocked Kuvira’s body as she fell into Jinora’s arms, burying her face in a patch of robes over her shoulder. She felt the soft pressure of an embrace enfolding her, and all she could do was shudder.

“You’re not a monster,” Jinora whispered, slowly running a hand up and down her back. “Trying to help and losing your way doesn’t make you a monster. Don’t think like that, okay?”

Kuvira gripped tighter at the folds of her robes, struggling to catch her breath. Jinora eased her back and carefully dabbed away the tears still rolling down her face with the tip of her thumb. The tiny shred of affectionate human contact was almost too much. “Why are you doing this?” Kuvira asked through sniffles. “Why are you being so kind to me?”

“Because you’re the one who needs it the most.”

It made her feel silly and small to have some nineteen year-old kiss her on the forehead, but Kuvira relished every second of it and the rush of suppressed emotions that came with it. She relished it so much, in fact, that she didn’t want it to end when Jinora pulled back, and dipped forward until she found her lips again.

As soon as she realized what she was doing she pulled back, turning every shade of red while Jinora sat there, quite nonplussed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, I don’t know if you’re involved or if you even like women—I’m so screwed up,” she muttered.

“Maybe I overloaded you,” Jinora said, rubbing the back of her neck. The color in her cheeks began to rise. “But you, um…didn’t have to stop, you know.”

“What?”

“I know you were engaged,” she added quickly, “And I know that was probably because no one’s visited you in a while, but without the whole crazy dictator thing, you’re really cute.”

It was Jinora’s turn to flush scarlet as she looked intently at the ground. With anyone else, Kuvira would have objected to ‘crazy dictator,’ but given the circumstances…she inched back over, ran a trembling hand over Jinora’s cheek, and kissed her again. The younger girl leaned into her, matching Kuvira’s pace, staying gentle around her chapped lips. Jolts of electricity arced through her, rekindling a spark that she had long since stopped maintaining, and soon she was nudging Jinora down onto the bed, kissing her more deeply, letting her hair fall in loose strands around them.

“Wait, wait…”

Kuvira yanked back, twisting up from the newly stoked fire in her belly, and fell beside Jinora on the tiny bed. “Too fast? I know I can be aggressive.”

“Little too fast,” she admitted, turning on her side to look at Kuvira. “I’ve never had to pull the ‘I just met you’ card, but, well…could we cuddle, maybe? I can do that.”

“Yeah.” Kuvira put her arms out so Jinora could nuzzle into her chest. “Yeah, that sounds perfect.”

The hour when visitors were allowed was over far too soon, and when the guard rapped on the door Kuvira was on the verge of falling asleep with the sweet little airbender girl in her arms. Her groan turned to a whimper in her throat as Jinora rolled to the edge of the bed and sat up. She had managed to feel normal and human for the first time in years thanks to her, and it was over in the blink of an eye.

“I’ll walk you out,” she said, getting a laugh from both of them. Kuvira watched Jinora smooth out her robes with a freshly renewed hunger and then joined her at the door. “There’s not much to do here by way of dates, so I understand if this was a one-off thing—”

“Can I come back tomorrow? I can bring some new books and a pai sho board.”

Kuvira had forgotten how it felt to smile so widely it hurt her cheeks. “Of—of course, come as often as you like,” she said, dipping down to give her one last, lingering kiss. “I’ll be here.”


	13. Name Confusion (Kunora) (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _I just realized I've been spelling Jinora's name incorrectly, so that gives me an idea for a lighter prompt: modern AU Kunora, aged up, where Kuvira and Jinora have begun dating but Kuvira never actually asked how to spell Jinora's name, and she goes to visit Jinora at work. The problem is that there's also a Jinorra that works in the same building!_

“Do you really have to go?”

Kuvira lazily traced her finger over the small swell of Jinora’s breast, stopping to flick her thumb across the soft pink nipple there. Jinora hissed and squirmed under the covers, biting her lip as she shifted closer. She gasped when Kuvira pinched lightly, only to be swept up in a deep, desperate kiss that had her sinking her nails into Kuvira’s hip. They both knew the answer to that.

“I have a little time…”

With a smirk, Kuvira worked her leg in between Jinora’s, nudging upward until her thigh was right up against Jinora’s clit. She whimpered and dug her nails into Kuvira’s side, hips rolling slowly at first to get a feel for the position, and then faster to get the hot, pleasurable jolts spiking up into her belly. Kuvira ran a hand through her hair, tensing and relaxing the muscles in her thigh at random to vary the pressure. She dipped down to nibble lightly at Jinora’s throat, leaving a single purple blotch that her collar would cover up. “F-fuck, Kuvira…”

Jinora didn’t have time to say anymore before being swept up in another kiss, lingering and rougher than before. She obediently opened her mouth to let Kuvira’s tongue in, pressing back with her own to get the heady taste of her girlfriend, spice and sweetness and a comfortable familiarity. All the while her hips bucked, rubbing against Kuvira’s increasingly soaked thigh while her chest rose and fell in panting little breaths. Hot pressure built up in her core, making her legs shake and the lean muscle over her stomach tense to the verge of cramping. But every time she felt herself getting close to the edge, Kuvira relaxed and dropped off the tension, making her whine in protest. Sometimes she wished it wasn’t so obvious when she was about to come. “Please?” she asked, breaking their kiss, writhing in Kuvira’s arms. “Vira!”

Her leg fell away, provoking a frustrated gasp while she squeezed Kuvira’s arm. She wanted to protest, roll over and maybe finish things herself, but Kuvira nudged her onto her back and slid under the sheets, trailing kisses along her skin. Jinora moaned and lifted the sheets to watch her, but Kuvira went right from kissing her hips to the inside of her thigh, a sensitive enough area, but not the one she wanted kissed. Dark green eyes looked knowingly back at her, drifting closer, closer…and then flitted over to her other leg, lavishing attention on the soft skin there.

After the third time Kuvira intentionally missed the mark, Jinora reached under the sheets, cradled the back of her head, and eased her into place. The breath she was holding in escaped and her back arched as Kuvira ran her tongue in one long, languorous stroke up to her clit. She rolled her hips up into Kuvira’s mouth, fighting to keep her breathing even, and gripped hard at the sheets with her free hand when Kuvira picked up her pace again.

Jinora’s toes curled up soon enough, and she pulled Kuvira in as close as she could when all the tension crashed through like a breaking dam. The arch in her back dropped and she went the other way, almost sitting up while she tried to keep from screaming through the apartment. Kuvira started a bit at the way Jinora’s fingers dug in on the back of her head, but they relaxed at the same time, Jinora falling back into place, Kuvira gently cleaning up as best she could before making her way back up the bed. “See, all you had to do was say ‘please,’” Kuvira said, wiping a bit of arousal from her lip before letting Jinora lick her finger clean.

“I’ll just ask politely to fuck your face next time.”

Kuvira idly played with a lock of Jinora’s bobbed hair. “A little politeness goes a long way.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s see how polite you are when you’re about to come…um, is that clock right?” Jinora asked, turning to the nightstand. What a silly question, every clock in Kuvira’s apartment was always perfectly synchronized and on time. She groaned. “I really am going to be late now, sorry!”

She jumped out of bed, acutely aware of Kuvira watching her as she gathered up her clothes strewn about the floor. Jinora made sure to wiggle her hips before disappearing into the bathroom to clean herself up and get dressed. Everything was a little wrinkled from having spent the night in a pile…oh well. She smoothed out the collar on her shirt and fastened one more button than usual to hide the love bite on her collarbone.

“How do I look?” Jinora asked, fluffing out her hair as she stepped back into the bedroom.

“Like I could tear it all off again. They won’t notice you’re wearing the same clothes as yesterday?”

Jinora shrugged and sat on the side of the bed to put her shoes on. “I work with toddlers, I don’t think they even remember yesterday. Ah…sorry about running out like this,” she mumbled. Kuvira cocked an eyebrow and shifted the sheets so that they fell away, exposing her breasts and the hard ridges of muscle over her stomach. Jinora pressed her legs together and yelped when the motion was too much for her still-oversensitized body. “No, no, I really need to get to work, they’ve got me in a new room today and I have to get situated. I’ll make it up to you, okay?”

“Oh, I know you will.” Kuvira rolled out of bed and put on a bathrobe to walk her out. “What time should I pick you up?” she asked, snaking her hands around Jinora’s hips to rest them in her pants pockets.

“Six.”

“Six it is,” she said, kissing the soft spot below Jinora’s ear, and then added in a low, hard-edged whisper, “We’ll see if you can even remember your name when I’m through with you.”

Jinora shuddered, considered once more if she really _had_ to go to work, and reluctantly slipped out the door.

* * *

The parking lot was a mess, but that was nothing new. So many parents crowding in to get their little bundles of…well, ‘joy’ wasn’t the word Kuvira would have used. She hit the gas and beat out a minivan for the last parking spot in the row before checking her clock. Right on time, as usual. She cinched the belt of her coat, hopped out of her Jeep, and hurried across the snow-stained asphalt to the long, squat building dominating the shopping center.

She went unnoticed in the throng of parents trying to get out and beat the traffic. Kuvira sidestepped a mother and her son to get to the reception desk, which sat empty. There was a map on the back wall with a directory beneath it, her sole guide since Jinora surely had her phone off.

“Let’s see…room sixteen. Miss Jinora.” A wicked little grin tugged at Kuvira’s lips. She was usually the one getting called Miss between the two of them. Well, Mistress, close enough. It was down the right-hand hallway, and she took a step toward it when the other half of the directory caught her eye. “Room three, Miss Jinorra?”

It was then that Kuvira realized she didn’t know how to spell her girlfriend’s name. “What the hell…”

A passing father shot her a dirty glance and covered his daughter’s ears while she pulled out her phone and scrolled through to their conversations. She was listed as _Jin_ _♥_. Kuvira looked through to her Facebook. _Kuvira Beifong is in a relationship with Jinny Sandei_. Gmail. _J. Sandei_. “Really? Are you kidding me?”

Reluctantly, she went to her contacts list. Who could she call and wheedle the information out of that wouldn’t blab about it? One of the other Sandeis? No, that would get back to her, they were too close-knit. She could always guess, but she would look pretty damn stupid if she was wrong, especially after her smart remark earlier. Kuvira scrolled a little farther down, got to _Shuinan_ , and hit the call button, bracing for the ensuing awkwardness.

“Hello?”

“Hey Korra, real quick, I need to know how to spell Jinny’s name and I feel really stupid right now so if you could keep from mentioning this to her—”

“Psych! Leave a message!”

She ground her teeth and jabbed the END button. That had _almost_ been funny the first time, several years ago. “Korra, you little…”

A pair of arms wrapping around her waist brought her back to the present. “My name has one R, Vira. Like yours.”

Her stomach dropped as she turned around in Jinora’s embrace, turning a very bright shade of red under the shorter girl’s knowing grin. “Hey, Jin…Jinora. One R. I’m not going to live that down, am I?”

She shook her head. “Not for a while. Come on, let’s go. I believe you promised to make me forget my name? At least we’d be even then.”

“Gonna milk this for all it’s worth?” Kuvira asked, taking Jinora’s hand as they stepped out into the parking lot.

“Oh, absolutely.”

She kicked some snow out of their path. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Jinora tugged on her hand until Kuvira turned back, finding herself pulled into a slow, deep kiss. She had to stand on her toes until Kuvira picked her up around the waist and lifted her off her feet. They broke for air, and Jinora bumped their noses together. “Yeah, you too.”


	14. Eskimo Sisters (Korpal) (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _Bolin just dumped Opal, so she us back at her apartment, drunk and sobbing while watching crap movies. Korra comes to check on her, gets roped into drinking and movies. Turns into complaining about Bolin (he dumped Korra too back in the day). As for what happens next, well…………_
> 
> For [moonwatcher13](http://archiveofourown.org/users/moonwatcher13/pseuds/moonwatcher13).

The picture frame shattered against the wall, blowing the glass into dozens of tiny pieces that rained down on the kitchen floor. She shouldn’t have done that, she knew. It was her picture frame and her apartment, and now it was her mess to clean up. Opal blinked some more tears from her eyes and went to get her brush and dustpan.

“Fucking, fuck, fuck…” she muttered, kicking a few pieces toward the wall. Thankful she hadn’t taken off her shoes earlier, she crouched and started sweeping up the remains of the picture frame, biting the inside of her cheek to keep back more tears. When she was confident she got every last piece, she emptied the dustpan, and kept the trash can out so she could rip up the picture that sent her into a rage in the first place. 

She tore it in half at first, setting aside the part with her in it, and then began to shred the part with her ex in the shot. Opal set her jaw in a hard line and tore away bit by tiny bit, making the pieces as small as she could before letting them fall into the trash. As much as her eyes burned, she refused to humor any more tears. At least the knocking on her door gave her something else to focus on.

“Oh. Hey, Korra.”

“What’s going on? Stuff’s breaking, you’re swearing up a storm, I could hear it from across the hall,” Korra said. She cocked her head to the side. “Hey, uh…you look like you’ve been crying, is everything okay?”

Humored or not, the tears came back unbidden, and she couldn’t even care that she fell bawling into Korra’s shoulder. “Whoa, easy, what happened?”

“Bolin is a j-jerk,” she said, barely understandable through her blubbering. Opal let Korra guide her back into her apartment and set her on the couch, where she slumped into her neighbor. Korra nodded and ran her hand along Opal’s back, patting every so often while she cried.

“What’d he do?”

“He dumped me!” she said, drawing one leg up under her chin. “We just got back from lunch and he dumped me!”

Korra wrapped her arms around Opal and squeezed a bit. “I’m sorry, honey. I thought maybe he had changed since we went out, but I guess he didn’t. Did he at least pay for lunch?”

“No, we split it,” she mumbled into Korra’s shirt.

“Son a bitch…all right, I can’t leave you here to wallow.”

“Not even a little?”

“Nope!” Korra hugged her tighter. “I just got a ton of ice cream, I’ll go get it. And pick out the absolute worst movie you have.”

* * *

 

“I know those two aren’t supposed to be white. They’re like, lily-white.”

“Watch, it gets worse. It gets so much worse.”

“Why did they change how firebending works? Did they ever even see the show?”

“It’s easier to get through if you don’t question it too much.”

“The girl playing the princess seems really familiar.”

Ninety excruciating minutes of film, two pints of ice cream, and half a bottle of wine later, Opal was no longer intent on wallowing. It was difficult to feel too bad when her sides were splitting. Korra looked ready to pass out from laughing, and it was terribly infectious. “Oh man, I’ve heard how bad this movie is, but wow…this is what you should’ve been throwing against the wall. Why do you even have a copy of _The Last Airbender_?”

“There was a ‘bad Christmas gifts’ party at work last year. I won.”

“Relatively speaking, anyway…so how’re you feeling?”

Opal leaned against Korra again. “Honestly? Like I ate too much Neapolitan.” Korra playfully nudged her. “I’m a lot better, thanks for not letting me sulk over here by myself.”

“Well, we’re Eskimo sisters now, I couldn’t let you sit here by yourself,” Korra said. Opal glanced up at her. “What? I’m Inuit, I can say that.”

“I know, it’s still weird.” She stretched out and watched the credits roll across the screen. “What a day. This might’ve put me off guys for a while, you know?”

Korra perked up. “Now, when you say ‘off guys—’”

She shrugged and nuzzled deeper into Korra’s side. “I mean guys. Haven’t dated any girls since Jinora, and I liked that. A lot,” Opal added, noting the way the bottom of her shirt was beginning to lift up. “Where’re you going there, Korra?”

“Oh, I, uh…sorry, wine,” she mumbled, moving her hand away until Opal grabbed her wrist and put it back.

“Did I ask you to stop?”

Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the ego boost from having such an obviously attractive girl make a pass at her, Opal didn’t particularly care to puzzle it out right that moment. Whatever the reason, she lifted her own shirt a little farther and let Korra’s hand wander. A little moan escaped her lips when Korra ran a finger over her iliac crest, and she was all too happy to twist around so they could ease into a soft, slow kiss. Most of Korra looked sharp—sharp gaze, sharp cheekbones—but her lips were soft, smooth and warm and welcoming. Opal eased back after a moment to let the butterflies in her stomach settle.

“You taste like wine and ice cream.”

Korra stuck her tongue out. “So do you.”

Opal grinned and swung one leg over so she was sitting in Korra’s lap. “I didn’t say it was _bad_ …”

She let Korra kiss her again, hands exploring along her back all the while. Opal had her own fun, feeling at Korra’s shoulders, sliding down to the sharp tone in her biceps and the swells of her breasts visible through the snug vest she always wore. “Wait, wait.”

Korra’s hands froze, and she pulled back with an inquisitive glance. Opal looked over her shoulder, grabbed the remote, and shut off the movie after it began to play from the beginning again. “Bedroom?”

“Is this a rebound thing?” Korra asked, snaking her arms under Opal’s legs so that when she stood, Opal came with her. “Because I’m cool with that, I just want to know.”

“Let’s figure it out later?”

She hesitated, but Opal wrapping her legs around her seemed to suffice. Korra carried her into the next room, smirking a little at all the little stuffed animals Opal had arranged neatly on her bed. “How old are you again?”

“Oh, shut up.”

Korra dropped her on the bed with the slightest toss, giving Opal no more than a second to adjust before Korra was on her again, holding her wrists out at her sides. Her hips rolled up. She _liked_ being handled. Opal wrapped her legs around Korra’s waist, pulling her closer and into another cautious, gentle kiss. Korra didn’t do gentle.

She let go of Opal’s hands and hooked two fingers into the middle of her shirt, pulling until the buttons flew off. With that done, Korra grabbed at her sides and descended on the taut little tummy in front of her, nibbling and suckling her way up to the lace at the edge of Opal’s bra. “Fancy.”

“I thought I was having sex today,” she mumbled, undoing the clasp on the front.

“Oh, you are.”

Opal yelped as Korra sat her up and worked her out of her shirt and bra, leaving just her slacks while Korra pulled off her own vest and threw it in a pile with the rest of the clothes. She bit her lip. “Do you _live_ at the gym?”

Korra grinned and put Opal’s hands on her stomach, letting her trace the little ridges of muscle there while she bit at the soft skin of Opal’s neck. She had only a moment to marvel at how Korra managed to be so cut and busty at the same before the zipper on her slacks raced down. Strong fingers tugged them off easily, and Korra’s sweatpants followed them after a moment.

“Didn’t think you ever went commando,” Korra said with a smirk.

“Again, thought lunch was ending differently.”

“Oh, it’s more than fine, I’ve always wanted to taste you…”

The color rose in her cheeks before Korra flipped her over, hiking her hips up until she was on all fours. She stifled a gasp and buried her face in the sheets as Korra began kissing along the backs of her legs, starting with the spot right above her knee that always made her tremble. Her toes curled tighter and tighter while Korra worked upward, suckling so hard at the top of one thigh that she felt a bruise forming. “Such a cute little butt,” Korra said, palming one cheek and squeezing until she left a light mark on the skin.

Opal waggled her hips, biting down on the sheets when Korra delivered a few firm taps on her warm, wet folds. Every little bit of contact sent a fiery jolt up through her belly, as much pain as pleasure. She wanted more, holy hell she wanted more from this strong, beautiful girl. “Korra,” she moaned into her bed, pushing back into each tap. “ _Harder_.”

Korra’s hand found her again, but paused, stroking slowly along her slit. “You sure?”

“There’s a box under the bed…”

She craned her neck in time to see Korra crouch down and find her toy box. “Wow,” she said, whistling as she pulled out a paddle. Opal saw it was the one with the little rubber nubs on one side. “Never pegged you for the kinky shit.”

“Well, you can peg me now, Jinora’s old rig is in there too,” Opal said, grinning at her own joke. She swayed her hips again. “Do you know how to use that?”

“Yeah, Kuvira liked some of this.” Opal groaned inwardly at the mention of her sister in such a setting. Korra ran the flat side of the paddle tauntingly over her thigh and up to her ass, putting the barest bit of pressure on her skin. “You’ll red out if it’s too much?”

She hiked herself up so she was using her elbows for support. “Yes. But trust me, you won’t get anywhere near my limit,” she said, hoping desperately that Korra would take it as the challenge she meant it to be.

“Is that so?”

Opal grinned.

The flat side of the paddle sang against her rear, sending a short, sharp, delicious shock of pain flaring out along her skin. Oh, how she had missed that stinging little burn, the fleeting snap that told her she was alive, so very alive…she trembled and then obediently fell still for another.

Korra put a hand on the small of her back and switched sides, striking the other half of her ass with a little more force. An appreciative moan and a few light kicks into the bed were all the response Opal could muster before a third hit, then a fourth. Her grip on the sheets tightened as each sweet blow wracked her body, reddening her skin and bringing on the addictive rush of endorphins. Korra flipped the paddle over, lightly running the rubber nubs over her skin, and Opal could actually feel her arousal start to run down her thighs.

“Aren’t you the little slut,” Korra said, and then added in a quick whisper, “Is dirty talk okay?”

She couldn’t nod fast enough.

“Why am I not surprised…”

Another strike, the first one with the textured side. Opal bit back a scream. It was a slower, longer burn than the flat side, with an insidious delay before the sting scorched over her skin. Korra paused, breaking her rhythm, and tapped a few times on Opal’s back. She gave Korra a shaky thumbs-up before leaning back into the paddle.

“Guess you really can take it. Spread your legs farther, I’m sure you’re used to that.”

She did so, relishing the lash of Korra’s tongue as much as the paddle, then gasped when Korra set the paddle down and ran her hand over the sore, sensitized skin. Every callus on Korra’s palm and fingers stood out in sharp relief, even through her light, fleeting touch. “Give me a few more, and then you can come. Understand?”

Her words were very far away, filtered through a haze of adrenaline. “Uh-huh…”

The paddle brushed against her again, and her back arched in anticipation. Korra ran the flat half over her left side, lightly tapping a few times, then— _SMACK_

Another shock from the rubber half came down on her right side. Opal’s breath turned into a gasp, pain licking along her unprepared skin so hot and so sharp that she almost came right then and there. Her elbows gave out, and suddenly she was ginning madly into her sheets as Korra ran the paddle into her two, three, four more times. Exquisite, agonizing flashes of pain flooded through with each strike, making her head swim, making her scream out until tears stained the sheets.

Every inch of skin was on fire, and she was so _close_ that she almost reached back to finish herself off, but she never got the chance. Korra dipped down, carefully avoiding any reddened skin, and brought her tongue in one long, languorous stroke down to her clit. The other kind of fire shot up through her belly, hitting different nerves but no less intense for the change. Opal moaned and pushed back into Korra’s face, squirming and shuddering through each gentle circuit of Korra’s tongue around her clit, aching with the need for release. She felt a pattern through the haze in her head, little flicking motions that she could only just puzzle out.

_M-I-N-E_

All the welling tension in her burst like a spark in a powder keg. The arch in her back fell out, and her legs kicked wildly into the bed. Whatever composure she had been able to maintain unraveled as her climax ripped her apart. Korra rolled out of the way and scooted her way up beside Opal, easing her closer until she was partially on Korra’s chest. Strong arms wrapped tightly around her while she rode it out, hips bucking, breath catching in her throat. More tears threatened at the corners of her eyes.

“Korra…”

“That’s a good girl,” she said, running one hand through Opal’s hair. “Very good girl. You did so well, you know that?”

Opal hummed while she drifted out of her subspace, taking deep breaths and listening to the praise Korra continued to lavish on her. The warm air in her bedroom suddenly felt so very sharp on her skin. “I’m not going to be able to sit down for a week,” she said.

Korra carefully wiped the tears from her eyes before planting a light kiss on her lips. “Something fun to remember today by. Seriously, is everything okay?”

“Perfect. Um...you’re welcome to stay the night, in case I need more cheering up.”

She held Opal a little tighter. “I’d like nothing more.”


	15. Cultural Exchange (Kyvira) (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _Kuvira/Kya: Metalbender and Waterbender working together, trading techniques, improving the fluidity of metal and the hardness of water!_

“I’m not sure I understand what Su’s trying to accomplish here.”

Even if Kuvira  _did_  know what Su wanted, she was much more interested in taking a long shower and going to bed after her shift. Instead she was out in the gardens behind Su’s house with a woman she met only five minutes ago. Kya, Su had introduced her as. One of the last Avatar’s children, the waterbending middle child. And the pretty one, apparently.

“Call it a…cultural exchange,” Kya said, drawing a long tendril of water from the fountain nearby. “Waterbending and metalbending aren’t that different, it seems like we could learn a lot from each other.”

The motion of water when removed from any current or gravity was mesmerizing, certainly, but Kuvira had seen waterbending before. She groaned as quietly as she could and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I think the only thing anyone could learn from me right this minute is how to fall asleep on that bench there. Sorry, I just don’t think this is going to happen tonight.”

Kuvira started to turn away when the water cracked teasingly by her ear. “What the—”

“Su said you were best metalbender in Zaofu. Well, after her, of course. You don’t think there’s anything you can learn, anything you can do to improve?”

“Look, I pulled a double shift, I’m tired—wait, what’s that supposed to mean, ‘after her?’ She’s not a better metalbender than me.”

A flick of Kya’s wrist made the water wrap around Kuvira, hovering in a ring inches from her waist. She puffed her chest out a bit, and Kuvira couldn’t help but the way her simple blue robes clung to her body. Some of her fatigue faded. “Prove it.”

She was tired, sure. But she wasn’t going to let anyone believe that Su was a better metalbender than her, either. Kuvira clenched her fists and made her steel vambraces peel away, forming another ring to envelop the water around her. When she tried to capture the swirling water, though, it shifted direction and spiraled upward, wrapping around her throat before it froze against her skin. The cold, paradoxically burning ice dragged her forward, scuffing her boots in the dirt until she stopped in front of Kya.

“This is Zaofu’s best?” she asked, an infuriating little smirk on her lips. The icy collar pulled them closer until Kuvira could feel Kya’s breath rolling across her skin. Full lips, Kuvira noticed. “Maybe Su was wrong…hmm? What’s that?”

Kuvira poked her blade gently against Kya’s robes. “It’s Zaofu’s best turning you into a Water Tribe shish kebab.” The rest of it snaked up Kya’s back and settled around her neck in a metallic mirror of Kuvira’s own compromised position. Each of them pulled a little harder, drawing them together by small, agonizing inches. “This seems better for trying to steal a kiss than for combat.”

“Please, if I was trying to steal a kiss, I would’ve already do _mmph_!”

Her lips were awfully warm. Of course, almost anything would feel warm compared to the ice wreathed around her throat. The shock cost Kya her focus, and soon Kuvira’s shoulders were soaked with freshly melted water. Still, she didn’t stop, and instead grabbed at Kya’s hips to pull her closer. There was some resistance from the waterbender at first, but when Kuvira undid the metal around her neck that faded, and a pair of slender, dexterous hands clutched at the small of her back. Kuvira wasn’t so tired, all of a sudden.

Kya pulled away first, fighting to keep her breathing even. A thin, glistening line of saliva slowly drooped between their lower lips until Kuvira licked it away. Salty was the best word she had for the older woman’s taste, salty and provoking a thirst for more. “Interesting combat style,” she said dryly, pulling the water from Kuvira’s clothes. Her cheeks were thoroughly flushed. “Very interesting.”

“Maybe you’d like another demonstration, then.”

Whatever it was making a woman twice her age so enticing, Kuvira liked it. She put her arms around Kya’s thighs and picked her up, eliciting an excited _yelp_ as she wrapped her legs around Kuvira’s waist. How very light, Kuvira thought. Her arms settled over Kuvira’s shoulders, letting her lean in closer while keeping her balance.

A long, expectant moment passed where all they could do was look at one another. Divorced of any distracting coldness around her throat, she could actually focus on Kya up close. The soft little lines around her eyes marked her graceful aging, and the blue in her eyes was appropriately bright, almost like ice. “You’re beautiful,” Kuvira said in barely more than a whisper.

“Aren’t you a charmer.”

Kuvira closed the distance between them again, slower and softer than before. She was in no hurry, Kya was doing an excellent job of keeping herself anchored around Kuvira’s waist and letting her hips roll against the hard muscle of her stomach. Kya was salty and sweet and interlaced with the strangely clean taste of freshly frozen ice, an addictive mixture that demanded to be savored slowly, with a connoisseur’s skill. Neither of them deserved any less. Her tongue licked at Kya’s lips until she was allowed in, where she greedily, hungrily explored.

She felt her legs beginning to buckle, but not from any lack of endurance. It had been a months since anyone else had stoked the dull ache between her legs, and now it was coming back as a hot, vengeful throb. Kuvira ran a hand along the back of Kya’s neck and tangled her fingers into the older woman’s grayed brown hair, suppressing a groan when she eased back enough to separate them. “Are you always this…gentle?”

Oh, so that was going to be how it went. “No,” Kuvira said, adding a hard edge to her voice, tightening her grip on Kya’s hair until she smiled and hissed in pain. “I’m not.”

Their next kiss was not soft, or gentle, or anything of the sort. Kuvira crashed their lips together and let her tongue go where it may, letting her free hand drift down and dig her nails into Kya’s rear. An encouraging moan answered her, and Kuvira wasted no time in making her way to the ground. She found the seam on Kya’s tunic and ripped it apart, throwing every dip and curve of her body into brazen display. There were a few scars and stretch marks here and there, but Kuvira was more interested in the little tuft of gray hair between the older woman’s legs.

Kya’s back arched as Kuvira kissed along her stomach, taking care to leave little purple marks the whole way down. Another time she might have taken pains to set the mood properly, but it wasn’t the time for being gentle. She drew her tongue across Kya’s clit in one quick stroke, taking the rapidly freezing water nearby as a cue to go on.

Every tiny motion found a warm reception, but it was still so…gentle, and she was intent on making a point. She looked around, letting her tongue continue to spell out her own name so Kya would be nice and ready, and found the metal she had abandoned before. Kuvira flicked her wrist to draw it over, making it liquefy in midair and hover through Kya’s vision so she would see it. She sat up and made a show of working the metal with her hands, forming it into a simple narrow cylinder with one softly rounded end and a nice anchoring point at the other. A little thinner than what she was used to using, but it would do.

She laid the cock tauntingly over Kya’s belly, showing her exactly how deep it would go, while she stripped off her clothes. When they laid discarded in a pile off to the side, Kuvira took her toy back and worked herself on to the shorter part, letting a short gasp escape as it slipped into her. Steel had such a good consistency for this. Kuvira spit into her hand and spread it along the shaft, stroking her cock purely for effect, and traced a line up Kya’s chest with her free hand. “We’re not coming back to ‘gentle’ for a while, understand?”

Kya bit her lip and nodded, fixated on the metal prodding at her, but Kuvira was in no hurry. She rolled her hips so her cock slid along the length of Kya’s folds, slowly soaking the shaft with her arousal. Of course, the metal was pressed up against Kuvira too, and though it lacked the sensitivity of the real thing, warmth and motion still transferred well with her metalbending. It was as much a comfortable extension of her body as she could manage.

When the anticipation had drawn on long enough, she took hold of the end and pushed into Kya, suppressing a shudder when her cock pressed back on her, too. Kuvira moved forward by small, degrees until she had taken Kuvira up to the hilt, squirming the whole way, and she paused for a moment to let Kya adjust to accommodating her. Kuvira leaned down and bit along her neck, marking her, claiming her, before rocking her hips back. Kya’s legs wrapped around her before she could pull out, and there was a surprising amount of force pushing them back together. When their hips met, the slight motion of the metal sent a long, addictive stroke of pleasure up through Kuvira’s belly before it settled as hot, mounting tension.

She found Kya’s clit again after her third or fourth thrust, running two light fingers over the sensitive little bud each time she rolled her hips back on her outstroke. Her bare knees were starting to chafe against the dirt on the ground, but she didn’t care. Kya slid a hand up along Kuvira’s stomach until she got to the wraps around her chest, but it was quickly pushed away.

And to think she was going to take a shower and go to bed…Kuvira waited until the arch in Kya’s back was as pronounced as it could get before she took her hand away. She pulled out and leaned back slightly so she could flip Kya onto her stomach, and then pull her by the hips until she was on all fours, glancing back with an expectant look that Kuvira was only too happy to indulge. It was a much better angle for her, and without any wandering hands besides. She pressed into Kya again, gripping at her hips so hard that her nails dug into the skin there. A small gasp as she hit home was all she allowed herself, and her thrusts became faster and more frantic to let her shaft rock against her as much as Kya.

With so much of the buildup already done, it didn’t take long to bring Kya back to the brink. All the water in the fountain near them fell still for a moment, and the back and forth shuddering from the waterbender made Kuvira’s cock hit her in just the right spot.

The need to release all that pressure overtook everything else, and she wrapped her arms tightly around Kya’s waist for better purchase. There was no grace to it, no finesse; Kuvira was past that. She just wanted to come. Her partner was accommodating, bumping back into her so that it only took three more quick thrusts. Every core muscle tensed almost painfully as all the tension unraveled in the blink of an eye, tearing her apart bit by sweet bit.

Kuvira leaned forward until she was laying along Kya’s back, breathing heavily while she nibbled at her shoulder. “Rough enough for you?”

“I might need another demonstration…”


	16. Game Night (Maborrasami) (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _Strip Twister Maborrasami. Let's see how good you are at handling body parts. :)_
> 
> For [mettahuman](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mettahuman/pseuds/mettahuman).

“This is what you picked for game night?”

Bolin’s answer to Korra’s question was to hold up the spinner more insistently. “Come on, Twister is fun!”

“Maybe for the two beanpoles here,” Korra said, jerking her thumb toward Mako and Asami, who seemed to take her comment as a personal affront.

“Hey!”

“We’re not that much taller than you two,” Asami said. “We could just split evenly, guys versus girls. That’d be fair, wouldn’t it?”

Korra pursed her lips, and Bolin flicked the spinner to try and drive the point home. They had to find a better way to decide how to spend their Friday nights. “Fine, fine. But we have to make this interesting, regular Twister is mind-numbing and all you get is cramps.”

“How about drunk Twister?” Mako offered.

“Awkward positions and the potential for projectile vomiting? No thanks.” Korra looked on her phone for a moment before her ears went a little red. “Any objections to strip Twister?”

They all perked up and shook their heads with varying degrees of feigned casualness. Korra grinned. “Awesome. So me and Asami on one team, Mako and Bolin on the other? Lose an article on red or yellow, whoever loses all their clothes or falls down is out,” she said.

Mako took the mat from the box and laid it across the floor. “Maybe we should’ve gotten drunk anyway.”

“Oh come on, we’ve all dated each other at one point or another,” Korra said. Mako and Bolin looked at her, unamused. She put her hands up in conciliation, went to the cupboard, and brought out a bottle of whiskey with four glasses. “With the obvious exception. Who’s going to start?”

Bolin nodded to Asami while they all discarded their shoes. “Ladies and beanpoles first.”

She smirked and leaned over Bolin, as if to make the point that she was still taller than him even with a hunch, while Korra took the spinner and gave it a twirl. They were at an advantage, if only because they had slightly more clothing. She grimaced. “Right foot red.” Not an excellent start.

Asami reached down, pulled off her right sock, and planted her bare foot at the corner of the mat. Korra handed the spinner to Bolin. “Left foot blue, Mako!”

He chose the spot next to the edge opposite Asami, still fully clothed. With all of their hands still unoccupied, Asami could reach back easily enough to take the spinner. “Okay, Korra…ugh, right hand yellow.”

“Did you rig this thing?” she asked, taking off her beanie and dropping it next to Asami’s sock. She crouched at the edge of the mat to put one finger on the rightmost yellow spot. Bolin rolled his eyes while Asami gave the spinner to Mako.

“Yes, Korra. I rigged the piece of plastic connected to the other piece of plastic. Where am I going, bro?”

“Right foot yellow.”

Bolin took a sock off and planted himself right in the middle of the mat. “I think the first round goes to us, huh?”

“You know we’re still wearing more clothes than you guys, right?” Asami asked.

He ignored her, and a cross-legged Korra took the spinner, swearing up a storm when the needle stopped. “Asami, can you grab the whiskey before you do this one? Left hand red.”

Korra took a long pull from the bottle while Asami discarded her remaining sock and dipped down, settling her hand halfway across the mat. “If you have a blue or green spin in you, I could really use it, Korra.”

“Why’s it _my_ fault?”

“And by _it_ , do you mean the bad spins or the fact that you suggested this version of the game?”

She took another drink.

* * *

 

The next four rounds saw a slight reversal of fortunes. Mako’s socks, shirt and undershirt lay discarded beside the mat, and he was split evenly while stripped to the waist, with his right hand and foot on the red spots and his left on the yellow. Bolin held steady with only his socks lost, planted with both feet firmly on the middle blue spots and his hands on red and yellow.

Asami lost her jacket when she had to split across the mat to get her left foot on a yellow spot, but otherwise her hands remained safe on red and blue. Korra, spurred on by the whiskey, threw away her vest and pants as she traveled across the mat, leaving her feet wide across the leftmost and rightmost green spots while her hands rested on yellow. They settled on a house rule to allow hand lifting for drinks, which they all took generous advantage of.

“‘Sami, get your crotch outta my face,” Korra said.

“Where am I supposed to go? We got pressed into this side of the mat!”

“It’s not bad, actually…”

Her face went red while Korra snickered to herself.

“Shush, it’s our turn!” Bolin craned his neck to where the spinner lay. “Do it, Pabu!”

His ferret chittered and batted his tail at the needle, whirling around and around in an increasingly disorienting way. “Okay Mako, it’s…oh shit, right foot green.”

“I’m on red now, I can’t get over there!”

“Then you forfeit!” Korra said, poking her head between Asami’s legs so she could stick her tongue out at him. Never one to be deterred, especially by Korra, Mako made a valiant effort to contort himself, but overcorrected. He knocked down Bolin, who knocked down Asami, who landed on top of Korra. Pabu squealed at the noise and skittered out of the room, leaving them in a mess of limbs and loose clothing. “Ah, who’s on my leg? Who’s…oh…”

She fell silent when Asami twisted around to press her lips up to Bolin’s, clutching at the sides of his shirt to pull him down toward her. Korra’s fingers bumped at the top of her boy shorts, and Mako’s face was thoroughly red when he sat up and saw the commotion. It had been a long time since they dated, but they hadn’t lost a step, Korra saw. Bolin ran one hand into her silky black hair, then eased back. “Wait, wait. How drunk is everyone?”

“Drunk enough to consider this, sober enough to consent to it,” Asami said, eyes half-lidded, to which Korra and Mako nodded quickly. “Can we pick a bed, though? This mat isn’t very comfortable.”

They only got as far as Korra’s room. She pushed through her door with Mako nipping at her neck and jumped onto the edge of her bed, pulling all three of them along with her until she was comfortably pressed underneath them. Someone ground against her shorts and she moaned quietly, pushing up Asami’s camisole until she found the lacy edge of her bra. “Can we get some help with these?”

Mako and Bolin were only too happy to oblige. Korra put her arms over her head to let Mako tug her sports bra off, and Bolin quickly found the clasp over Asami’s back. The remaining pants and shirts went flying all over the room, and Korra ran her hand down to the cool fabric of Asami’s panties. “Silk? Really?”

“You never know when you’ll get into an orgy,” she said, her breath catching when Korra’s hand pressed lightly against her clit. “Kinda beats game night, no?”

Korra nodded and inched her legs apart so Bolin could kiss up along her thigh while Mako settled in against Asami, tweaking one puffy nipple and stroking a long rush of her hair. “Beats the shit out of game night—oh!”

Her toes curled at the feeling of Bolin’s tongue running in a slow line over her underwear, and she could feel her arousal spotting the fabric. Korra twisted and turned so he could tug them off, and she kept up a steady pressure for Asami, who swept her up in a long, deep kiss. Pleasurable little jolts threatened to turn her legs to jelly every time Bolin’s tongue changed direction, alternating between lavishing her clit and gently pressing at her entrance. When Asami broke away to gasp through Mako’s little bites at her throat, Korra grabbed Bolin by the hair and pressed him in closer. “Like you’re hungry, Bo. No one likes a dilettante.”

Between him and Mako, Bolin took direction much better, and worked in quick figure-eights with his tongue. “Much better” was the most coherent thing she could get out through the warm haze settling over all of them. Her head fell against one of her pillows in time to see Mako undo the little knot of the side of Asami’s panties, and she saw everything was still well-maintained. _Well, you never know when you’ll get into an orgy._ “You two, shimmy that way, yeah?”

Mako and Asami did so, and Korra licked her lips when she saw Mako had done away with his boxers. In their new spot, it was a simple matter to dip her head down and lose herself in their familiar tastes, sliding her lips along Mako’s shaft and up to the sweet warmth of Asami’s folds, slick with their mingling arousal. The muscles in Korra’s abdomen tensed hard as Bolin hit just the right spot, and she pressed her legs into the sides of his head. She recovered, slowly, and when she opened her eyes again, they were in the midst of it, working into the slow, building rhythm they both knew Asami loved.

“Oh fu— _uuck_ ,” she said through a moan, letting an orgasm snake up her spine, diffusing tingling jolts of pure, simple pleasure through her whole body. It would be the first of many, if she had her way. And she was going to have her way. “Bolin…that, do that,” Korra said, nodding to Mako buried up to the hilt in Asami, before resting her lips over Asami’s clit.

She bit the nearest pillow from the overload, but they didn’t let up on her. Mako rolled back, and Korra only paused to squirm as Bolin pressed into her, filling her up so completely she thought she might burst before he laid a few light kisses across her neck. Korra wrapped her arms around his waist and redoubled her efforts on Asami, weaving their names across her sensitive little bud.

The twin scents of sweat and arousal mixed around them, lost among the gasps and clashing rhythms between the two pairs. Mako built into a faster, more frenetic pattern, teeth sinking playfully into the crook of Asami’s neck, while Bolin was more patient with each roll of his hips, holding Korra securely against him so she could better feel the fire spreading up through her with each long thrust and the dull ache left by every outstroke. She moaned each time she felt his hips against hers, and the low hum it made had Asami fisting up one hand in her hair.

“Mako, Korra—”

Her legs straightened out, tremors shaking through her while the words caught in her throat. All she could get out was a happy, giggling whimper as she came down, hips rocking in counter with Mako’s. Korra eased back, knowing how sensitized she became after a good trembling climax, and caught Bolin with a wet, messy kiss. Her tongue needed a rest, and she let him take the lead, nibbling at her lower lip as she wrapped her legs around him.

When Bolin brought his head up, it was along with short, jerky motions of his hands on Korra’s back. “Hey, where should I, um…”

“You’re good, honey,” Korra said, tightening her grip on him. Thank goodness for birth control pills.

He nodded as his pace became more and more erratic before he bottomed out entirely, burying his face against Korra’s shoulder. She melted into his grasp more and more with each twitching push of his hips, nails raking long red lines across his back. Bolin shook from side to side, unwilling to pull out for the moment, and the motion brought her slowly to another shuddering peak. Korra let all the muscles she was holding tense relax, and let her head fall onto the sheets, just in time to catch Mako on her cheek. She didn’t cringe at first, only when she brushed a bit off and got a taste of the bitterness.

“So I guess you stopped eating pineapple?”

Asami was still coming down, but she laughed at that. Mako rolled his eyes. “You know, Kuvira never critiqued me.”

“Really?” Bolin asked. “I got notes.”

“Asami and I got slideshows,” Korra said.

Mako groaned. “I need a less incestuous group of friends.”


	17. I Need to Be Youthfully Felt, ‘Cause God I Never Felt Young (Tyzuki) (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _Azula comes to stay on Kyoshi Island and finds Ty Lee and Suki are together, is jealous about that. Azula has to learn to share, Suki has to come to terms with the fact that actually, she kind of likes Azula and they are more similar than she’d wanted to admit._
> 
> For [HenryMercury](http://archiveofourown.org/users/HenryMercury/pseuds/HenryMercury).

_Azula,_

_Zuko told me you’ve been doing a lot better, so I wanted to write and let you know how happy I was to hear that! I thought if you were up to it, you might like to come out to Kyoshi Island for a week or two? Everyone here is really intent on moving on from the war, and I figured it might be good for you, too. Suki said it would be fine if you stayed with us as long as we don’t tie her up and steal her clothes again, so let me know!_

_Love,_

_Ty Lee_

She folded the letter up and set it on her nightstand with the others. Moving on from the war. Growing up, she had learned the war would end, of course, but she never expected it to unfold in quite the way it did. Well. She was nothing if not adaptable. There was plenty to excel at in peacetime. It was rare that her doctors had anything useful to say, but she remembered something about exposure and how it helped in moving on.

And it would be good to see Ty Lee again, too.

The stateroom aboard the _Ta Min_ wasn’t much larger than her room in the new palace wing where she had spent so much of the past six years, but it had a window, and Azula didn’t even care that her view out of it was the same featureless blue every nine times out of ten. She could get up, she could move around, she could leave her room and go up on the deck if she was so inclined. She wasn’t, but she could. Too much open space made her hackles rise.

A wave lapped against the hull, and she could feel the whole ship rocking in the surf. She looked out the window again. Land, close and getting closer. Tingles snaked up her spine. It was definitely Kyoshi Island; the statues of a tall, green-clad woman standing sentinel along the cliffs made her sure of that. Not a moment too soon, either. As comfortable as the stateroom was, three weeks at sea was more than enough.

Someone knocked on her door. “We’re almost in port, Your Highness.”

“Thank you,” she said, still gazing out the window. _Thank you._ Another thing her doctors had taken such pains to impress upon her. The words still tasted strange on her tongue. Azula stood up and grabbed her luggage. There were no servants with her, and so she only had the one trunk to carry. She had none of the markings of her station, either. No jewelry, no armor, no ornamentation for her loose topknot. That was for the princess. Here she was just Azula.

By slow inches, the _Ta Min_ dropped its speed until it finally shuddered to a full stop. The sounds of pistons and gears springing to life reached her even as far back as her room, and stopped only when the gangplank bumped against the dock. She hiked the trunk over her shoulder, struggling slightly from the weight, and pocketed all of Ty Lee’s letters with her free hand.

No one paid her any mind as she disembarked, weaving through the freighter’s cramped corridors, dodging crew members going to and from the cargo hold. It was easy to get lost amongst the crowd.

Dockhands in blue and green directed the flow of goods to this or that loading yard to the crew carrying crate after crate off the ship. There was still so much relief work to be done, even after six years of peace. It might not have been where she would have been directing their coffers, but then, she wasn’t the Fire Lord.

_Quaint_ was the nicest word she could summon for the town they had landed in, a place called Seizhon, Avatar Kyoshi’s birthplace to hear the stories. Somehow she doubted that. Still, it was where she was meant to go, and so she set her trunk down at the edge of the docks and waited.

It couldn’t even be called a town, really. A single dirt road lined on either side by sad little wooden cottages with thatched rooves did not a town make. Not even a village. Or…maybe it had been more impressive before the war, she thought with a twinge of misplaced guilt. She shook her head clear and kept waiting. And waiting. Her fingers drummed on the side of her trunk as the minutes slipped by. It was the right time, the right day. But no one was coming down from the village. Ty Lee had changed her mind sometime in the last three weeks, obviously. A bitter part of her might even have done the same. Fine. _Fine_ , she thought as her nails scraped against the lacquered wood of her trunk. All the time at sea was a nice enough sojourn. Sparks crackled around her fingertips as she stood back up—

“Azula!”

Her heart skipped three beats as buried, treasured memories came rushing back. A grin tugged at her lips when she saw the familiar motions of a cartwheel, and then a vaulting somersault through the air. Green really wasn’t her color, and the kimono didn’t do any justice to all the myriad dips and curves of her body, but she only had a few seconds to size her up before Ty Lee descended on her in a crushing embrace.

She thought she might be angry, or all the emotions from that day at the prison might come bubbling up again. She even worried she might not feel anything. Instead all she felt was a deep, comfortable warmth radiating from her chest, carrying all the way to her fingers and toes. Azula hugged her friend as tightly as she could, almost clawing at the silk on the back of her kimono.

“Ty Lee,” Azula mumbled, face buried against the collar of her kimono. The faint cherry blossom perfume was new. Light, sweet. How befitting. “You got taller.”

“Well, it’s been six years, we both did,” she said, easing back so they could compare. It was true, they were both at the higher end for twenty, but Ty Lee still had a few inches on her. “It’s so good to see you again.”

“I missed you,” Azula blurted out, letting the words escape before she could think about them. It was untoward, she knew, and the color rose in her cheeks as she wondered if she even had the right to miss her.

Ty Lee only smiled and took her hand, running her thumb slowly over Azula’s palm. “I missed you, too.”

For all that had transpired between them, for everything Azula had obsessed over for month after month, none of it was in Ty Lee’s smile or the way she inched them closer together. Every night on the ship, she had refused to entertain the notion that they would be able to…pick up where they left off with their awkward first steps through a relationship. She was so sure seeing one another would reopen the old wounds that had cut so deeply all those years ago, and yet there they were, talking and hugging and smiling like none of it had ever happened, like it was all behind them. It was behind Ty Lee, at least.

Azula took the handle of her trunk and hiked it up across her back. “Come on, let’s go. It smells like a fish market here.”

“It is a fish market!”

Ty Lee was happy to talk about each and every building they went by, the houses they had helped build or the fields where they rotated different crops in the summer. It all seemed rather pedestrian, well below someone of Ty Lee’s station and birth, but she was so excited to explain who lived where or which building needed its roof fixed three different times. Azula kept pace beside her, listening and drinking it all in. There was a certain dignity to it all, she supposed.

“This is it, right here,” Ty Lee said, making a sharp turn into what looked like a more recent construction. She jumped right over the steps onto the porch and barged through the door while Azula followed at a slower clip. “Suki! We’re back!”

Azula sidestepped through the door and saw another woman at the kitchen counter, slicing up some leeks to drop in a bubbling pot. Oh…Suki. Now she remembered. The one that had been on a tear about protecting the Avatar’s bison. She glanced back in time for Ty Lee to jump into her arms and plant a long, firm kiss on her lips.

_CRASH_

All three of them jumped as the trunk hit the floor. “Lost my grip,” Azula said, stumbling over the words, face burning as she felt their gazes on her. She simply righted it and stood back up, unwilling to trust herself with the handle. “Hello, Suki.”

“Azula. This is a much nicer way to meet, I think.” She eased her way out of Ty Lee’s embrace and walked over, oblivious to the way Azula clutched at her stomach. “Here, I’ll get that trunk for you, let me show you the room we set up. It’s no Fire Nation palace here, but I hope you’ll like it.”

Fire Nation palace it certainly wasn’t, but all that stuck out to her as she followed Suki down the hall were the things that revealed Ty Lee’s presence in the home. The bouquet of pressed cherry blossoms on the table, her framed family crest hanging on the wall…Azula almost walked into Suki while her mind raced.

“There wasn’t much red handy to decorate with,” Suki told her, putting her trunk at the foot of a wide bed with warm gold sheets. “I thought this would be sufficiently royal. Let us know if you need anything.”

“It’s lovely, thank you.” Her voice felt small and far away, horribly removed from her usual cool, confident tone. “I’m going to lie down for a while.”

“Your eyes look glazed, are you feeling all right?”

“Fine. It’s been a long time, I guess. I just didn’t realize you and Ty Lee were…together.” She almost choked on the word.

Suki’s face went red as she tried to hide a smile. The princess would have knocked her teeth out. Azula only wanted to do it. “Yeah. Funny how these things happen,” she said, fiddling with a fold in her kimono. “That’s not a problem, is it?”

“No,” Azula lied. Suki slipped out of the room and closed the door behind her. _Funny how these things happen._

Her fist hit the trunk without restraint, over and over, as hard she could without making noise. Red splotches dotted the wood, and her knuckles were split and raw by the time the sharp stings of pain were too much. Azula sat on the side of the bed, holding her bloodied hand against her stomach, biting hard on her cheek to keep a straight face. She knew the way the palace guards used to talk about her when they thought she was out of earshot, about how she didn’t have a heart. That was silly. She knew she had one, because she could feel it, lying broken.

⁂

“Okay, here, try it this way. Flick the fan shut and then bring it forward…”

Azula looked up from her sketching to get another reference. Suki had one arm thrust toward Ty Lee, closed fan pointing toward her. Ty Lee turned slightly so the end of the fan pushed in between two ribs on her side. Her hands held Suki’s, guiding her toward the pressure point there. Azula tightened her grip on the charcoal and worked on their poses.

“See, you don’t even have to jab, it’s more of a sharp poke,” Ty Lee said, illustrating by taking Suki’s hand and driving the end of the fan forward. Her arm went limp almost immediately, and Suki laughed when she started waving it around at her. The face paint only made their broad, beaming smiles stand out even more. Ty Lee pressed her thumb into another spot on her side and her arm sprang back to life, just in time to pull Suki into a tight, crushing hug. Both of them look so alike in their Kyoshi getups, so effortlessly happy.

The smell of smoke hit her, and Azula realized she was burning the edges of her sketch. She tamped down the fire, pulling it back into herself to let it seethe quietly. Hmm. It looked better with the ragged edges, really…she adjusted her grip on the charcoal, looked back up, and felt it snap between her fingers when she saw them pressed into another kiss.

Flames consumed her sketch entirely, and she set her easel aside before stalking off. If they noticed, they made no motion to stop her. Sparks singed the air around her, and some of the anger turned inward for not being able to control herself better. She was above this, she had more self-control than to go storming off whenever jealousy went striking through her like a hot knife.

At least, the princess was above it. She could hide everything behind the inscrutable royal mask. Azula wasn’t, and couldn’t.

Seizhon was not a large village, and she left it easily, cutting an angry path through the forest nearby. A week in the Earth Kingdom had been quite enough for her, truth be told. Enough of the guest room with the too-thin walls, enough of having to watch them do something as mundane as cooking together, enough of seeing Suki with her…her…well. Azula didn’t have a word for what Ty Lee was to her. She was more important than words.

The cliffs at the southern end of the island dropped off abruptly, with the only real warning being one of the Kyoshi statues gazing watchfully out at sea on its pillar. Azula had half a mind to set it alight because of the resemblance, but pettiness didn’t become her, she knew. Instead she slumped down with her back against it, looking into the endless expanse of ocean while she huddled her knees up under her chin. Her eyes stung, and she bit back on the tears. Princess or Azula or whoever she was, she wasn’t going to cry.

Her resolve lasted for ten seconds by a generous count. Tears slipped silently down her cheeks, painful and cathartic all at once, while she shivered in the early summer air. How very weak she felt, putting on what felt like such a mawkish display, but she didn’t care.

_Oh look, she betrayed you again. You can’t be surprised._

Azula struck the back of her head against the pillar, sending a sharp shock of pain ringing through her to try and stop the creeping voice that had been her only companion for so long. It was still her, all her sins, her as the Fire Lord, her as the Earth Queen, the gnawing lust for destruction and more and more power. No matter what she did to try and shut it out, it was always there, her own voice thrown back at her in quiet, vulnerable moments.

She needed to do something. Her doctors always told her to stay busy to keep those thoughts from bubbling up. There wasn’t anything handy to draw with, and she wasn’t about to sing where people could hear. Azula got to her feet, wiped her eyes dry, and took in a long, controlled breath. Some smoke followed when she exhaled.

Bright blue flames erupted over the cliffs as she worked through a firebending form, striking so hot and so fast that the grass at her feet burned away after only a few minutes. Streaks of lightning crackled through the air, splitting the late afternoon peace and sending birds scattering. Every drawn-out bolt forking over the sea drained her more, but her mind was clear, and that was what she needed.

It grew dark before all she could get was a few pitiful sparks falling limply to the ground. Each breath she drew ached like a weight was sitting on her chest, and her legs cried out in protest every second she stayed standing. Too much, she knew. Far too much. Azula grabbed the pillar for support and sank to her knees, fighting to draw enough air into her lungs.

_Go on. If you don’t have the strength to live, then just die._

“I have strength enough,” she said through a snarl. Strength enough to ignore the princess that clawed at her thoughts like a rabid bear. Strength enough not to burn herself up from the inside out. Strength enough to not go to pieces whenever she saw the one girl she cared for in someone else’s arms.

How had things gone so wrong, she wondered. She was supposed to be the Fire Lord and Ty Lee was supposed to be at her side, convention be damned. She didn’t care so much about the crown anymore, Zuko was doing a passable job. Not that she didn’t think she could do better, but her thoughts rested much more on the sweet, bubbly acrobat her wrath had cost her. On their first nervous kiss on the boat back from Ba Sing Se, on how warm she had been beneath the sheets, on how she curled up against Azula while she slept, gripping tighter at every movement of her body.

She wished she could blame the war for how she acted, for how neither of them were ever able to be young and foolish and so sickeningly in love that bards and poets would be inspired to write all the sappy things she secretly enjoyed so much. But that was a poor excuse, and Azula knew it. Cruelty and pettiness cost her whatever Ty Lee had felt for her, and that guilt seared deeper than any flame, burning nerves to uselessness and leaving only disquieting, longing numbness.

“Azula?”

Her tears were going to shred whatever veneer of confidence she had left. She smeared her liner in the process of wiping her eyes dry, but she didn’t care. It was dark, anyway. Her legs straightened out and one crossed over the other to give some small impression of propriety by the time the grass nearby bent under Ty Lee’s boots. Azula gave her a casual hum of acknowledgement. “Oh, here you are.”

“Here I am. Sit with me. I mean—would you sit with me a while?”

“Of course.” Ty Lee planted herself beside Azula, leaning back on her hands to look at the stars shining all over the night sky. “Are you okay? You’re breathing kinda heavy.”

“I overextended myself with my firebending, I need a few minutes.” Azula chewed on her tongue, painfully aware of how close their hands were. “Ty Lee?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you happy?”

“Well, yeah! I mean, everyone here is nice and it’s so peaceful, and it feels good to be doing something to help everyone get over the war. They were wary of me at first, but now I’m just another Kyoshi Warrior. It’s been nice, having friends like this.”

“And Suki?” Azula asked, unsure of which answer she would prefer. “You’re…happy with her?”

“Is that why you left before?”

Silence was its own kind of assent, Azula supposed, and there was plenty of it hanging in the air between them. Ty Lee turned toward her, took off her gloves, and ran a hand through Azula’s hair, provoking a shudder as much as guilty pleasure. “Yes, I’m happy with Suki. I’m really, really happy,” she said, her smile plain even in the dark.

Azula’s heart didn’t shatter again, she didn’t even feel another stab of petty jealousy running her through like a sword. Ty Lee was happy, and that brought its own sense of satisfaction. It was a warmth quite unlike any firebending, and it even brought a small smile to her face.

“Okay,” Azula said, reaching up to capture Ty Lee’s hand with her own, thumb tapping against her palm. “That’s all I needed to know.”

“Listen, you’re wrong if you think I don’t care about you, if you think I don’t love you. I do.” Azula’s heart leapt into her throat. Ty Lee drew closer and closer by slow, agonizing inches. “I never stopped…”

Her lips were fuller than Azula remembered, still so soft, so warm. Ty Lee’s head slowly cocked to the side, left as she always used to go. Her hand went back up again, resting on the nape of Azula’s neck and lightly holding her in place. Whatever breath she had mustered up left her lungs again, and it took everything she had to pull away, fighting against fresh tears ready to fall. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t need your consolation prize,” Azula said, easing back against the pillar. “You’re not going behind Suki’s back for my sake. I don’t do second place.”

“Oh.” Ty Lee fiddled with her braid, twirling the ends of her hair between her fingers. “How…how does a tie for first place sound?”

“What?”

She laughed nervously. “We weren’t exactly sure how to bring this up before, but…Suki kind of likes you, too.”

Azula could only give her a blank look. Suki was certainly pretty—as pretty as any Earth Kingdom girl could be, really—but hadn’t made any indication that she wanted Azula any closer than arm’s length. “Does she have a habit of falling for people who try to kill her? Should I have brought Mai along too?”

“It’s not like that,” Ty Lee said, defensiveness lining her voice. “It was six years ago, she doesn’t hold grudges well, and we’ve all tried to put that behind us. We were all kids…we shouldn’t have been fighting wars.”

Guilt gnawed at Azula. “So without everything that happened back then, she does like you. And I like you too, but you knew that. We wanted to ask if you were interested in staying with us longer,” she said, getting to her feet and offering Azula a hand.

“In what capacity?”

She took Ty Lee’s hand and stood up, feeling a knot form in her stomach when they bumped against one another, lips brushing together without kissing. Maybe it was the dark, or the warmth in the air, or the utter solitude they found themselves in, but for once Azula felt their usual roles reversed. Fr once Ty Lee was the one opening the door to something new and dangerous, playing the temptress, and Azula was along for the ride. She wasn’t hating it.

“We thought we’d leave that up to you.”

Strong, slender arms slid around Azula’s waist, hands settling on the small of her back and threatening to drift lower. Well, she thought, it was a vacation. “Let’s go back, then.”

Ty Lee grinned and kissed her again, more roughly than the tentative pecks she would venture when they were younger. She turned back toward the town, and Azula quickly found herself being pulled along. It was affronting for a brief moment until she started following without resistance, letting herself enjoy being led around for once. They were back in Seizhon quickly enough, among the simple lantern-lit paths that snaked alongside the main road. Azula was still struggling to catch her breath, even more now that her heart was ready to beat right out of her chest.

Suki was brewing tea when they returned, humming something to herself until she looked up. “Welcome back,” she said, still clad in her silly face paint.

Once they were back in the kitchen, Ty Lee finally released her hand and clamped around her waist instead. “I, um…told her,” she said, putting on an anxious smile that the bright red lipstick only magnified. The tassels on either side of Suki’s headpiece betrayed the way she bristled. It was nice to get back to picking out subtle things. One woman’s emotions were far from the Fire Nation court intrigues she was used to puzzling out, but there was a…personal interest now.

“And?” Suki asked with badly feigned casualness.

Azula sauntered over to her, taking her time, making Suki wait. When she finally was right up beside her, she put a hand on Suki’s cheek, provoking a long, shameful shudder and a blush that managed to peek through her face paint. “One question. You have a whole harem here, ready to do whatever you ask. I tried to kill you. Why me?”

Suki paused to mull over her answer. She looked so much better when she didn’t have all the makeup on, Azula thought. “Ty Lee did a good job of talking you up,” she finally said, inching forward. “I was curious. And let’s face it, you’re beautiful.”

She had never considered that Ty Lee might share all the sundry details of their relationship, but surely it wasn’t working against her now. Azula had always made sure she was satisfied. She traced down until one finger rested under Suki’s chin, pitching her head up so she couldn’t look away, and smirked.

“Flattery will get you everywhere.”

Suki was a much more timid kisser, although she didn’t know if that was because of the circumstances or if she was just altogether more submissive. Now there would be something interesting.

She felt another pair of lips teasing along her neck, and a hand slipping under her top to match. What greedy, greedy girls. Azula eased back, took them both by the wrist, and led them wordlessly back to her room, nudging them onto the bed while she kicked the door shut. They went back at her when she sat between them, each claiming one cheek while Azula bit her lip. If whatever she had with Ty Lee had been hedonism, this was little more than pure self-indulgence, and she was going to enjoy every minute of it.

“The armor,” Azula said, rolling one of Ty Lee’s shoulder pads between her thumb and first finger. “Lose it.”

With them occupied, she could reach back for the tissues on her nightstand and then turn to watch them stripping off their chest pieces and vambraces. Neither of them made a show of it, instead rushing through the process until they were down to the simple green kimonos underneath. She brought them back onto the bed and then swung her leg over Suki so that she was in her lap. Without all the padding, the ragged rise and fall of her chest was more evident, but there were other things to focus on first. Azula took one of the tissues and slowly wiped away her face paint, exposing the pale, deeply flushed skin underneath.

She took her time around Suki’s eyes and then her mouth, waiting until it was clean before letting her thumb circle the soft flesh of her lips, threatening to slip inside every so often. Her hands clutched at Azula’s thighs, riding up underneath her skirt. An impatient whine brought Azula back to the present moment, where Ty Lee was waiting expectantly beside them. She swung the other way, freeing herself from Suki’s grasp and grabbing a fresh tissue along the way.

At least straddling Ty Lee was familiar, with the sweeping dips and curves of her body etched inextricably into Azula’s mind. She moved slower, more deliberately, revealing by slow degrees the face that occupied so many of her dreams and fantasies. Ty Lee looked coyly away, but Azula kept her in place with a hand laid lightly over her throat, applying the barest pressure to remind her that she was there without disrupting her breathing. Once her face was bare, Azula crashed their lips together, sending her into a sweet, dizzying spiral of locked-away memories, of surreptitious meetings in her old bedchamber where they would spend the whole night nervously touching, exploring, learning.

Now Azula had other ideas. She fell onto the bed, pushing Ty Lee down along with her, flitting her tongue out, oh so happy to claim her again. Ever attentive to her hosts, Azula found Suki’s shoulder and pulled her down beside them, tugging at the lapel of her kimono. It parted easily once Suki undid her belt, revealing her chest wraps and pale, toned stomach.

She dug one nail into the wraps and ripped through them easily, letting Suki’s breasts fall free as Ty Lee broke away for some air. Azula sat up, still keeping Ty Lee’s hips firmly between her legs, and pulled off her own top, a simple red piece that left her shoulders and midriff bare.

Azula had only just tossed her clothes aside when Suki pounced, shoving her down and pressing into a desperate, hungry kiss. Submissive she wasn’t, certainly. Ty Lee easily worked her way out from under them to pull off her own kimono and wraps, and then Suki’s, leaving them all stripped to the waist. That wouldn’t do. Azula pulled out the knot on her skirt and let it fall away before flipping Suki over, undoing the knot in her pants so she could tug them free.

“Is this little triangle a Kyoshi Warrior thing, too?” Azula asked, drawing two fingers through the small tuft of brown hair between Suki’s legs. She flushed redder and let her legs part while Ty Lee nipped at her neck, stoking competitiveness rather than jealousy. Suki squirmed when Azula dipped down and captured a soft pink nipple between her teeth, sucking lightly until it was stiff and aching. Her tongue danced across the tip before she drifted to Suki’s other breast, keeping her quivering while Ty Lee had her in a long, sweet kiss. Sweet wasn’t Azula’s specialty.

Suki realized what she was doing when Azula started kissing down along her body, and merely rolled her hips in answer. Ty Lee eased away to discard her pants and watch hungrily, hand resting shamelessly between her legs to enjoy the sight of them.

The scent of Suki’s arousal was a far cry from Ty Lee’s, earthier and slightly musky rather than sharp and spicy, but not without its own appeal. Good thing too, because there was plenty of it already, glistening along the insides of her thighs. Azula grinned. What an awful mess she was going to make of this woman. She drew her tongue up in a single, languorous stroke, making Suki’s back arch until she was halfway off the bed. Ty Lee whined as she watched, fingers racing up and down while she tweaked one nipple with her free hand.

“Get over here,” Azula said before Suki propped her hips up to get back at her tongue. She shuffled her way back to them, laying on her side and leaving her legs apart as she nibbled at Suki’s ear. Azula batted her hand away, Ty Lee was never very good with her fingers. She took over, making soft, light circles with her first two fingers around Ty Lee’s clit and working her lips and tongue a bit more firmly along Suki’s warm, wet folds.

She didn’t feel quite so tired anymore.

Both of them were squirming soon enough, pressing in on Azula’s hand and head with their legs. Ty Lee had a familiar rhythm, long circles with occasional brushes over her bare, sensitive clit, but Suki needed more puzzling out. Azula took her time, drawing all kinds of shapes with the tip of her tongue, prodding softly at her entrance, and taking direction from how Suki reacted. She liked boldness, and so Azula let her tongue drift down and push past her folds, nearly pulling back in response to the arousal spilling against her face and dripping down her chin. They locked eyes, and Suki seemed only just coherent enough to blush the same red as her usual lipstick. So flustered, so utterly at her mercy.

Ty Lee gasped when Azula drew her hand away and instead gave her a few firm taps, provoking a jolt each time. Hot, aching pressure lapped at her core, threatening her focus, but her hands were occupied. There would be time for that. Instead she pressed her legs together and focused on Suki, lavishing her tongue on the girl, making her tremble and whine through each teasing movement.

“Azula, please,” Suki said, gasping out her name with such pleading reverence that she may as well have begged. Ty Lee was little better, pushing her hips up to meet each quick tap and then recoiling to savor the sting. She could have finished them off separately, but there was no fun in that. Ty Lee was easy to hold off, varying the pressure and motion of her fingers by small degrees, until Suki finally started to lose control over the tremors wracking her body.

Her hands pressed at Azula’s cheeks to hold her still, not that she would have gone anywhere. Azula withdrew her tongue and let her ride it out, licking her lips clean while the arch dropped out of Suki’s back and she fell still, panting and mumbling happily through her climax. Ty Lee was much the same, wrenching her body away from the stimulation to shudder her way down, clinging to Suki’s side as she did. They complemented each other well, she thought with a twinge of something between jealousy and happiness.

She gave them a moment to catch their breaths while she crawled to the front of the bed and propped herself into a sitting position with pillows to support her. The tight, warm tension in her belly wouldn’t stand to be ignored for much longer, and they were happy to oblige her. Ty Lee descended on her first, nibbling at her throat, and Suki followed with deep, lingering kisses along her thighs, drifting closer and closer to where Azula needed them so badly.

Suki was an excellent tease, really, and had Azula shifting around until she ran her hand into Suki’s hair, clenched just enough to get her attention, and shoved her firmly in between her legs. Azula sucked in a sharp breath of air as Suki’s tongue hit home, gliding over her in happy, muffled obedience. Hot, sharp tingles ran up through her belly, making her practically ache with the need for release each time Suki struck upon a new spot. She wasn’t going to whimper, and settled for a low moan instead before pulling Ty Lee beside her. She offered no resistance, moving along with Azula every time she writhed from Suki’s efforts, and dipped down to bite gently at one nipple, only barely rolling her teeth against the soft, sensitive skin.

Every nerve was on fire, ready to consume her if she lost control, spurred on by Ty Lee and Suki at every turn. Her resistance was waning, her thoughts grew hazy, and she looked down to enjoy the view while it lasted. Two beautiful girls working at her, awash in their own afterglow and intent on showing her all kinds of pleasure. Azula bucked her hips and tightened her hand in Suki’s hair as the pressure in her core mounted, mounted to a fever pitch—

And then burst like a breaking dam, tearing through every inch of her body. She could barely manage a hoarse, shaky laugh as Suki delighted in lapping up her arousal, planting kisses along the way. Once Azula finally released her grip on Suki’s hair, she crawled up to Azula’s side opposite Ty Lee, nudging her into a wet, messy kiss. Her toes curled as her breathing returned to normal, and she laid her arms possessively around both of them while they nuzzled against her. She pitched her head back and let a bit of blue flame cross her lips, as if to show her satisfaction.

“So,” Azula said, waiting until they were all coherent enough to speak, “You were going to ask if I wanted to stay longer?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Ty Lee, Azula and Suki, art by [AATKAW](aatkaw.tumblr.com))


	18. Missing Pieces (Kunora)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _Continuing from your first Kunora fill, Jinora continues to visit Kuvira in jail, but after a few years a jailbreak happens! Earth Empire leftovers break a bunch of prisoners out and use the chaos to smuggle an unconscious Kuvira out. Once they're out and Kuvira wakes up, they explain the plan (they wanna resurrect the Empire under Kuvira) but she wants no part of their rotten plans, and they fight. Some time later, Jinora gets a letter in bad handwriting claiming to be from Kuvira, and goes to find her. Turns out Kuvira lost her writing arm and her right eye in the fight, but hasn't gone back 'cause she's not eager to be put back in a wooden box. So, she's been earning a living and helping people as a repairwoman and hobbyist carpenter using a metal-and-wood arm she's created as a prosthetic._
> 
> So we're continuing from Chapter 12, and since apparently it wasn't crystal clear the last time, here Jinora is 21 and Kuvira is 28. Oh, and AU or otherwise, "Sandei" is the surname I use for Pema and her kids.

_I don’t know what an airbending master’s schedule is like, but if you want answers, and I’m sure you do, there’s a town at the western edge of the Si Wong Desert. We named it Jīnshǔ Settlement 61. Please don’t bring the cavalry if you do decide to come._

Jinora folded the letter up again and stuffed it into the folds of her robes. Pepper groaned as she climbed out of the groove in his neck and back into his saddle, where she could lay out her map. Just getting it hadn’t been easy, President Raiko and Su Beifong had impounded and sealed away almost everything to do with the Earth Empire. Most of it remained under lock and key, with the exception of two things, one relatively unimportant and one extremely important. The unimportant one was the map, one of many used by survey teams to catalog and classify all the myriad towns and villages of the former Earth Kingdom.

The important one was Kuvira.

Her memories drifted back to the day two years prior when Opal stormed her way back to the island, furious to the point of tears at her erstwhile sister’s escape five years into her thirty year sentence. A jailbreak, Lin had said. One with help from the outside, since Kuvira’s purely wooden cell didn’t allow for bending. The other dozen or so prisoners who escaped were quickly rounded up in the area surrounding the prison, but Kuvira was nowhere to be found. However it had been done, it left three of the city’s best guards with concussions and no clues as to the former empress’s whereabouts.

Until a week ago, when a courier pressed a letter into her hands addressed in sloppy, shaky writing. _Miss Jinora Sandei_. Most people she knew were at the temple with her apart from Korra and Asami, and neither of them would use her surname or bother posting something when they could take a boat or a glider. It was unsigned, but there was only one person she wanted answers from, and only one person who would refer to a town in such clinical, detached terms.

She had kept it hidden for several days while deciding what to do. Lin would want that information, Su more so, and Opal would have beaten them both to the punch. Jinora considered turning it over to her father or Korra or even burning it, but in the end she made up some pretext about visiting the Eastern Air Temple and took Pepper deep into the Earth Kingdom. She had her own score to settle.

Jīnshǔ Settlement 61 and its proper name, Bianjing, was marked in almost impossibly small script on the map, near the border with the desert and dangerously close to Zaofu. More than once Jinora had to nudge Pepper lower to the ground before it was even visible, a small bloom of simple wood and earthen buildings buffered by sand on one side and green-brown hills on the other. The closest rail stop was at least thirty miles from the town, and she couldn’t imagine Kuvira making that kind of trek to secure a village with no strategic importance. More than likely it either willingly consented to annexation, or else held out with Zaofu and the rest of the province, and was simply too minor for the empire to force the issue. Either way, she doubted Kuvira had come through Bianjing, and perhaps that was the point.

A few curious children gathered around Pepper as she landed and took in the feel of the town. Nothing seemed off about the bustle with which the citizens went about their business, so Kuvira probably hadn’t established some kind of dictatorial enclave on her former home’s doorstep. Why here, she wondered. “Pepper, stay,” Jinora said, hopping down from the saddle with her pack. She gave the children a few apples to feed him and then set off into the central market.

Perhaps _market_ was too generous a word, Jinora thought as she walked. There were a few stalls, even a building dedicated to a butcher and grocer, but it wasn’t exactly a teeming center of commerce like she was used to seeing in Republic City. The earthen homes were smooth and well-sculpted, no doubt bent into place. Metal decorations, too. Simple things mostly, sunbursts and the emblem of the new Earth Republic, but they all seemed expertly forged.

“Do you have a blacksmith?” she asked one of the stall owners. He pointed her toward the far end of the street, where a tiny bit of gray smoke plumed up from a chimney against the cloudless blue sky. Her pace quickened, and all manner of feelings started bubbling up along with the smoke. Both of them had let themselves be vulnerable with one another, she even jeopardized her friendship with Opal to visit Kuvira for their sad approximation of dates. The spot right above her collarbone that Kuvira liked so much felt so hot it almost burned as she pushed open the blacksmith’s door.

“Excuse me—”

The rest of the words caught defiantly in her throat, and her legs threatened to give out from under her. A patch covered her right eye and her left arm ended at the elbow, replaced by some kind of metal contraption resembling a forearm and hand, but it was still Kuvira, though perhaps a little rougher around the edges. She looked up from quenching a piece of steel and nearly dropped the ingot into the steaming water.

“Kuvira…?”

“A little louder, I don’t think the whole town heard you,” she said, taking hold of the brass in the doorknob and bending it shut. She put her current project back on an anvil and looked downcast at the space between them, turning her body slightly to hide the prosthetic attached to her arm. “Thank you for not bringing anyone else. These people don’t need their town ripped apart in a manhunt.”

“How do you know I didn’t?”

“I can feel everyone’s footsteps through the ground. The only new arrivals are you and that bison. I’m…glad you came.”

Jinora took three long steps across the shop until they were in arm’s reach, locked eyes with Kuvira, and then slapped her. Her palm sang across Kuvira’s cheek, leaving an angry red mark in its place, and then she fell against her, biting back tears.

“Okay, I deserved that,” Kuvira said quietly, wrapping her remaining arm around Jinora. “I know you probably have a lot to work through.”

“You left me.” Jinora’s voice was barely more than a muffled whisper, pressed into Kuvira’s shoulder as she was. Her rough, natural scent was painfully familiar, and pulled back more memories of sneaking kisses and touches when the guards weren’t looking. “You left me and, and…what happened?” she asked as her hand fell to some of the straps keeping the prosthetic arm in place. The leather and metal felt so cold compared to the warmth of her skin.

“Go in the back, I’ll close up shop here.”

She dipped into the living space behind the shop, which in some ways seemed even more ascetic than the cell she had been confined to. There was no stack of books and no real door apart from a loosely hung curtain. But it was made of earth, had a window where the sky was visible, and metal decorations dotted the walls, and perhaps that was enough. Jinora sat on the side of the bed as Kuvira returned and drew the curtain behind her, bending the metal fingers of her left hand while she sat in the chair at her desk. The simple motion unsettled Jinora, but she focused elsewhere. “So.”

“So.”

“You want to know what happened, I guess.”

“We all know what happened,” Jinora said, gripping the sheets at her sides. “You broke out of prison. And even if we hadn’t read about it in the papers, Opal was loud enough for everyone to hear.”

Kuvira tensed up at the mention of her adoptive sister, but then her shoulders slumped. “How is Opal?”

“Almost had an aneurysm. She’s fine now. Better, at least.”

“Good, good.” Kuvira scratched at the skin around her eyepatch. “And I didn’t break out, I was ready to serve my sentence. Besides, you saw my cell. Unless I learned how to bend wood, I wasn’t getting out of there. I was broken out.”

“By who?”

“Some of my officers, the ones I left to hold Zaofu while I was inv—in Republic City,” Kuvira said, her voice heavy with guilt. Jinora watched her carefully, trying to appraise her and shut out for the moment the feelings bubbling their way back to the surface. “They were able to go to ground before the United Forces swept up everyone else. When we finally got back to the fort where they were hiding out, they told me they wanted to get things back to the way they were. They…didn’t take my refusal kindly. Cost me my arm and my eye, but they didn’t live long enough to destabilize whatever Korra and Wu set up. I couldn’t let that happen.”

“Why didn’t you come back?”

She sighed and leaned back in her chair. “No one would’ve believed that I didn’t plan my escape. You might have, maybe, but Su would’ve wanted my head. So I found this place instead. They needed someone who could work metal, I needed a place to start over. No one’s recognized me yet, and I’m doing more good than I could from a cell.”

Jinora was quiet for several moments, trying to process everything. She had closed off so many avenues of thought for the past two years that opening them up again all at once was almost overwhelming.

“Are you going to turn me in?” Kuvira asked, moving over to the bed, planting herself a respectable distance away. She slowly undid the straps of her prosthetic until it dropped into her lap, and she set it on her nightstand before massaging the scarred portion of skin where her arm now ended.

“No.”

The tension in her shoulders gave out, and Jinora thought she saw a tiny smile brush across Kuvira’s lips. Chapped and slightly reddened, just like she remembered. “I didn’t want to leave,” she said, and then in a voice so small it was barely audible, “I didn’t want to leave you.”

She gasped when Jinora closed the gap between them and pulled her into a deep, desperate kiss. Two years of lost time broke free between them, and Jinora swung her leg over so she was in Kuvira’s lap, running her hands through wiry black hair and tugging it out of its messy braid. Shocks of desire ran up and down her spine, forcing out a shiver despite the heat. Kuvira pulled her as close as she could and found a gap in the back of her robes. They broke apart, fighting for breath and holding back tears.

“Still taking things slow?” Kuvira asked, running her fingers over the small of Jinora’s back.

“Two years is slow enough.”


	19. Standing Orders (Korvirasami) (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _Korra/Asami/Kuvira (but non-AU this time)_

“I have orders. No one goes in.”

The guard’s muffled voice carried through the door and grated on Korra’s nerves as she turned over in bed. Her new quarters deep in the Beifong estate were secure physically, not to mention the security detail, but it wasn’t worrying about the thickness of the walls or the heft of the door that was costing her sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she woke up on the ground again, surrounded by a sea of molten rock and those Red Lotus people…she shook her head clear and turned over again.

“I was on your side during all that, in case you didn’t notice.”

Korra’s heart skipped. She kicked away the sheets and rushed to unbolt the door to find Asami staring down the guard Su had posted for her. Kuvira, her name was. Something like that, anyway. Asami broke their glare when she saw Korra in the doorway and took a step toward her. “Hey, how are you doing?”

“Still pretty shaken up,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck. “Listen, Asami can come in, okay?”

“Just doing my job, Avatar Korra. I was given very specific instructions.”

She looked the guard captain up and down. It was difficult to tell with the metal armor, but they looked to have similar builds, maybe even the same height, and apparently the same stubborn streak. “Kuvira, right?”

“Yes.”

“I would be grateful for a little discretion with your orders,” Korra said. “Asami’s the last person in the world who would try to hurt me right now. Do you want to make sure? I know Su said to guard my door, but she didn’t say from which side.”

Rattled or not, she could manage to put enough confidence in her voice to make it less of a request and more of a statement. It wasn’t easy to refuse the Avatar, after all. Kuvira chewed on the inside of her cheek and looked down the empty corridor. “Ten minutes. That’s all.”

Asami darted inside before she could change her mind. Korra returned to her bed, playing with the hem of her nightshirt, and Kuvira closed the door behind them, leaning against the frame as she glanced at her wristwatch. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?” Asami asked, settling in against the headboard.

“No, no. Haven’t been able to get back to sleep yet.”

Korra took the spot beside her and let Asami’s arm drape across her. The light silk of her nightgown provided a soothing warmth on her cold skin, and she said nothing as Korra slumped into her side, hiding in the crook of Asami’s shoulder. “Every time I close my eyes I just keep… _seeing_ them, and—”

Slender fingers ran their way through her hair, and the rest of the words caught in her throat. Korra relished her touch and refused to feel guilty for enjoying it, enjoying the way it made a comforting heat bloom over her. She wrapped her arms around Asami’s waist and squeezed tight.

“Take a deep breath,” she said, and Korra obeyed, catching the traces of her perfume that hadn’t washed off earlier in the night. Violets. “You’re okay now, no one’s going to hurt you. It’s not real. Mako and Bolin are here too, we won’t let anything happen. You’ve even got your own overzealous security.”

Kuvira scoffed.

“I know, I know. I keep trying to tell myself that.” She paused as they shifted farther down the bed, halfway between sitting up and laying on it. It was a silent, synchronous movement, and she cursed the Red Lotus up and down for being the impetus of such an intimate moment. This was all wrong, Korra thought. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, with her issues hanging over their heads. “Then I try to get to sleep, and it starts all over again.”

She tried nudging them down a bit farther. Asami made no protest, and for a moment Korra’s thoughts moved to a somewhat brighter place. There hadn’t yet been a good time or opportunity to talk with her about her feelings for Asami simmering under the surface, and that time was hardly now. They weren’t alone, and Asami was here as her friend. It wouldn’t do to take advantage of that.

But then Asami finished scooting them down onto the bed, wrapping her other arm protectively around Korra until they were beside one another. Her lips brushed over the smooth skin of Asami’s collarbone, and she couldn’t suppress the shameful shudder that rocked through her body.

“You’re shivering,” Asami said, and pulled her closer.

_Oh, you’re not making this easy…_

The desire to pull away was there, buried deep, but Asami made that decision for her and rolled to the other side of the bed. Korra grimaced at the sudden empty space while Asami unstopped the decanter on the far table. She brought back two glasses swishing with a tiny bit of clear liquid and pressed one into Korra’s hands once she sat up. “Here. Drink it slow, it’ll help your nerves.”

“Sake?” Korra asked, taking a whiff of the drink while Asami belted hers back. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“Unless you’re a total lightweight, that isn’t nearly enough to get you drunk.”

Never one to fail to rise to a challenge, Korra downed her sake in a single, sputtering mouthful. She grimaced as Asami took the glass away, acutely aware of the burn in her throat before a slight, tingling warmth bloomed out from her stomach and stretched along her arms and legs.

“How is it?”

“Sort of bitter. But also sweet? It’s a weird taste.”

Asami nodded and brought the decanter over, pouring them both another glass. Kuvira glanced at her wristwatch and started to say something, but the person under the armor won out, and instead she slipped out of the room. Korra mouthed a silent “thank you” after her before trying a second round of the sake, and then a third. Before long she laughed at the smallest things, which made Asami laugh, and the process would repeat.

“This is…this is good,” Korra said, nestling again into Asami’s side. They were back where they started again, but Asami’s hands were on her bare skin and not her shirt. It was a step in the right direction. She was vaguely aware of turning toward Asami, slightly more aware of the faint shine the sake left on her lips, and found herself wondering how it would taste on her skin—

Asami jolted when Korra leaned into a light kiss, half-lidded eyes shooting open as her hands tightened around Korra. She returned the kiss after a long moment, pulling them closer together. The knot of tension in her gut burned away in the rising flames of arousal, and she tangled their legs together as she gripped at the collar of Asami’s nightgown.

“Korra,” she whispered after finally easing away, her breath coming in short, unsteady bouts. Both of them were all kinds of red, and each watched the other for any subtlety of movement. “Is this—are we—”

“There’s not going to be a perfect moment for this,” Korra said, running her thumb along the length of Asami’s cheek. She shuddered and closed her eyes, making Korra draw back as a wave of shame crashed over her. Tears sprang unbidden to the corners of her eyes. “Unless you don’t…ugh. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, you’re here because you’re my friend and I’m forcing myself on you.”

“Hey, hey.” Asami wiped away her welling tears. “I’m not shooting you down here, I just want to make sure this is what you really want. You’re still rattled and not exactly sober.”

She wrung her hands and took a deep, steadying breath. “I wanted this last night, too. And a lot of nights before that.”

That was all she needed to say. Asami closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around Korra’s waist, hands finding their way under the hem of her nightshirt and to the toned muscle of her back. Little hot-and-cold jolts of sensation followed with every dip and drift of Asami’s fingers as they traveled up her spine and lifted her shirt along the way. Korra pitched her head back, and Asami wasted no time in diving in with a flurry of quick, feather-light kisses to the soft skin of her neck. “Then touch me, Korra…”

A sharp twinge of arousal snaked up through her belly, furious in its urgency, and Korra was only too happy to oblige. She shrugged the nightgown from Asami’s shoulders, gasping softly once she had her friend laid bare before her, all pale curves over taut muscle. Mindful of her order, Korra brought her hand up along the swell of Asami’s breast.

“Can I take this off?” she asked, but Korra beat her to the punch and stripped away her shirt, throwing it to the far side of the room. Exposed and finally feeling the cool touch of the air all over her torso, embarrassment started setting in. All the cuts and scrapes and scars there were plainly visible, but Asami only nibbled along her collarbone with the slightest appreciative hum. “So strong, so beautiful…”

Every flick of Asami’s tongue left fire in its wake, drawing up goosebumps while Korra’s hands wound through her hair, silky and black and perfect like she always imagined it. The smells of arousal and sweat hung heavy around them, stifling, heady. A moan slipped unbidden over Korra’s lips, the most coherence she could manage as dexterous fingers hooked into her waistband.

Something bumped against the door, and Korra’s hackles rose. She reached out for the brass in the knob, and the door swung clear before she could do more than turn the latch. Kuvira tumbled in and fell to the floor, the front of her armor bent away and her hand firmly down the front of her pants.

Korra and Asami watched, bemused, as she shrugged out of her dented armor and got back to her feet with shaking legs. Her face was thoroughly red, and she looked pointedly away from them as she gathered up her armor. “I’m so fired,” she muttered. “Uh…sorry. As you were.”

“Were you getting off on this?” Korra asked, almost sputtering with laughter.

Her face somehow managed to go redder. “What—what’s so funny about that?” Kuvira demanded, summoning up a level of indignation Korra wouldn’t have thought possible with unbuckled pants. “You two weren’t exactly being quiet…might as well enjoy myself if I’m getting fired for insubordination.”

The whole time she was talking, Korra was acutely aware of the flashing glances she gave them both before fixing her gaze on the side wall. It might have been the sake, or the general haze of arousal filtering all her thoughts, or the way Asami looked between them both with a plainly hungry, half-lidded expression. Whatever it was, she dropped her voice until it was as husky as she could manage. “And fingering yourself against the door, that’s enough enjoyment for you?”

If there was any blood left in Kuvira’s body not in her face, it quickly arrived there. Asami’s grip on Korra’s thigh tightened, and they both grinned. “You’re not seriously—”

“It’s a big bed,” Asami observed.

She felt more comfortable looking at them, and Korra decided to make a little show of it, putting her hands up over her head and stretching, putting every taut, flushed inch of skin on display. Some of the color drained from around the lip Kuvira was biting to within an inch of bleeding, until finally she closed the door behind her and slid the lock into place. “Fuck it.”

“That’s the spirit,” Korra said before Kuvira strode over, cupped her cheeks, and pulled her into a long, pleading kiss. Her shyness melted, and her tongue was flitting over Korra’s lips in short order. They pulled her onto the bed and went to work relieving her of the rest of her uniform. Asami found the small metal snaps on her shirt while Korra took a somewhat simpler approach, hooking around her still-undone waistband and yanking it down, exposing thickly banded legs honed by dancing and heavy earthbending. The damp spot on her underwear was all too plain, and Korra would have smirked if she thought her own clothes looked any better.

Kuvira turned the tables easily enough, latching her hands around Korra’s legs and tossing her back into the pillows before pulling off her pants in one swift motion. A tingling shock ran up through her when she sat up again and saw Kuvira going at Asami instead, nails raking along the smooth skin of her hip. She did away with her underwear and went to join them, nibbling at the side of Asami’s neck with the barest hint of teeth. Asami shook in Kuvira’s grasp and let herself get lowered back down, whimpering under their combined attentions. Her back arched sharply when Korra worked her way down to one light pink nipple, catching it between her lips to apply a tiny bit of suction, while Kuvira ridded herself of her shirt and Asami of her pants.

 _This is fucked, this is so fucked._ Korra relished the thought.

Whatever sound Asami tried to make collapsed into a moan before her chest rose with a sharp breath. Korra turned her head slightly and saw Kuvira down between her legs, the bottom half of her face lost in the neatly trimmed patch of hair below Asami’s stomach. In the bustle of it all Korra hardly noticed her own hand drifting down to her tense, swollen clit, and the lightest touch caused a fresh rush of pleasure to jolt up her spine.

“Don’t—don’t stop,” Asami gasped. Kuvira tightened her grip on Asami’s thighs, and Korra slipped from one nipple to the other, drawing the tip of her tongue in a long, slow circle around it. “Ah, Korra, Kuv…uh…”

“Kuvira,” she said dryly, picking her head up to show off the shine of arousal all over her lips and chin before Asami shoved her back down.

“Yeah, you. Oh fuck, your tongue…”

Korra felt a hand running through her hair and lifted back a bit, watching a trail of saliva from her lip droop and finally fall before catching Asami in a hungry, desperate kiss. Her lips parted easily, and Korra could feel her hips rolling in an increasingly frantic pattern.

The whole time her own hand raced back and forth over her clit, slick with arousal and sending fire up through her belly. All the muscles in her stomach and upper legs tensed almost painfully before her orgasm tore away whatever composure she still had, and she fell limp as wave after wave of warm, tingling pleasure spread all throughout her body. Asami wasn’t far behind, panting and whimpering while she pushed her hips up and shook so violently that the whole bed rattled. Kuvira recoiled the smallest bit at first, then descended again and eagerly lapped up everything Asami had to offer. Korra fell still to watch, pressing her legs together when pressure began coiling again.

“Seems like you needed that,” Kuvira said, wiping her chin clean. Asami was in no position to speak clearly, and so she turned to Korra instead. “Couldn’t get any privacy on that airship?”

“We weren’t…we’re not…”

Kuvira shrugged and sat up, running a finger along the back of Asami’s thigh and getting another whimper for her effort. “I think she needs a little time to pull herself back together. Come here Avatar, put your legs out like this.”

She was fine with letting Kuvira take the lead, women seemed much more her specialty. Korra did as she was told, shifting over on the bed and putting her legs out in front of her until the two of them mirrored each another well enough. Kuvira put one of her legs over Korra’s and one under on the other side, letting her pull Korra even closer until they were pressed together, so that every tiny motion provoked some kind of feedback and stimulation. “Now just…just rock your hips—ah! Y-yeah, just like that…”

Her lips still had Asami’s taste on them, sweet and light, mingling with the both of them now as they moved in concert. Kuvira let her set their rhythm, mindful of the climax Korra was still coming down from, but that didn’t stop her from pressing the issue, toying with their pace and tightening her grip on Korra’s shoulder. Asami found the wherewithal to move again and pressed into Korra’s back, nibbling at her ear as the pressure started welling again in her core. “Please, please I’m gonna come again,” she choked out, the words nearly catching in her throat.

Kuvira finally pushed them into a faster tempo now that it was comfortable, with a light sheen of sweat and arousal all over the both of them. Her grip nearly drew blood and all the metal in the room rattled, costing her the cool expression she had managed to keep until then. Korra felt a light, sticky spray on the lower half of her stomach, but Kuvira didn’t let her climax break their pace. She kissed Korra, hard, and she fell to pieces again as Asami held her tight.

She wasn’t aware of them all untangling themselves, or of falling between them onto the bed. Two pairs of arms wrapped around her, and she finally drifted down to sleep.


	20. Falling Leaves (Makonora)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _Mako/ (aged up) Jinora where Jinora is an Airbending sifu and is instructing a class while Mako watches from the sidelines._

“Here, tuck in your elbows a little more, and you want to turn your body at this point…”

Mako looked up from his book to where Jinora was leading a small class through their Bagua circle routine. So many more airbenders had come to the temple in the eight years since Harmonic Convergence, and they all needed instruction. At least Tenzin didn’t have to train them all on his own, both his daughters had received their arrows and had their own groups of students. The setting sun caught the maroon and saffron in Jinora’s robes, to say nothing of the way it hit the pale blue tattoos on her arms and hands.

He brought his book back up, but he had lost his spot already. A crinkled brown leaf fell onto the page, and he left it there to start again later. Soon it would be too dark to read outside, anyway. Mako turned the Bagua circle again, where some of the newer airbenders were finally starting to kick up a small funnel. The excitement of finally absorbing the lesson cost them their focus, and it faded away almost as soon as it had appeared, to which most of them groaned.

“Don’t worry, that was very good,” Jinora said, blowing some leaves out of the circle with a flick of her wrist. She caught Mako’s eye, then became very interested in a loose stone near her foot. “Everyone go rest up, we’ll give this another try tomorrow.”

She waited to see them back to the main buildings before slipping over to the spot under the tree Mako had claimed. Jinora nestled in beside him on the ground, pretending to not notice his presence until she leaned into his side.

“They’re learning fast,” she said, linking one arm through his. Mako planted a soft kiss to the top of her head, where the arrow line ran, and she shivered.

“They have a good teacher.”

“Both are true.”

Jinora made a momentary attempt at a mischievous little grin, but it quickly fell apart as Mako wrapped an arm around her, the one that still bore the scars of too much lightningbending. She never seemed to mind. Instead Jinora turned toward him and buried her face in the front of his jacket, humming a tune he could never quite puzzle out. “Do you think Ikki could handle your students next week?” Mako asked. “Korra said she and Asami would be in town for a few days, they wanted to see us.”

“I think she can handle a few more…what I don’t know is if they can handle her.”

“Aren’t those arrows supposed to come with a big dose of peace and serenity?” Mako asked. A gust of wind swept over the island, and Jinora burrowed tighter against him.

“Probably. But we’re only a quarter Air Nomad, so maybe it didn’t take. I covered for her last month, I’m sure she won’t mind. Aren’t you going to miss my lessons though? You haven’t gotten through more than five pages of that book this week.”

She poked accusingly at his chest. “I can’t help if there’s something much more interesting to pay attention to.”

“Oh, you’re flattering me,” she said, snaking her arms around his waist. “Keep doing it.”

Pride was an interesting thing for a nun, but then she was only a quarter nun, like she said. “You move like a breeze, that’s not flattery. It’s…hard to focus on anything else. Not that I’d want to,” he whispered. Mako meant to dip in to kiss her cheek, a chaste little peck for a nascent relationship, but she turned at the last moment and he caught her lips instead.

Well, they _were_ together. He slipped a lock of hair behind her ear and pressed in slightly, and it was over all too soon. They both eased back, all blushes and nervous grins, before they settled back into their tight cuddle. A comfortable warmth bloomed in Mako’s chest as they sat in the cool autumn air. “I’m glad we’re…you know,” Jinora said, curling up against him. “I’m glad we’re this.”

“I’m glad you kept your dad from killing me in my sleep after we told him.”

She shook her head, little more than a slight motion against his side. “He likes you too much. He’d kill you while you were awake.”


	21. Vanity Press (Korrasami)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _A canon fic where someone writes a sleazy, smutty, work of fiction featuring Korra and Asami, in which their relationship flounders, and they become involved with other people. Korra gets wind of it and shows up at the book signing ready to burn every copy, only to find Asami queueing up to get a book signed so she can give it to Korra for her birthday._
> 
> For [mettahuman](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mettahuman/pseuds/mettahuman). Spoilers for [_No Gods, No Masters_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3721117/chapters/8241313).

“Hey, what are you all looking at?”

Korra tried to nudge her way in to see what was so interesting, but she couldn’t get close enough to the table. Mako, Bolin, and Tenzin’s whole family were crowded there, breaking out in laughter every few minutes without any explanation. “Guys?”

“We’re getting this signed tomorrow, right?” Bolin asked.

“I’m hardly even in this,” Kya said. Bumi scoffed.

“I’m not in it at all! Too much Tenzin, not enough us.”

“In what?” Korra asked, trying to elbow her way through them.

Mako finally turned around when she whacked him on the shoulder. “Oh, hey Korra. Have you read this book Varrick’s publishing company put out? It’s hilarious.”

“No, I’ve been busy, what’s it about?”

“All of us!” Bolin said.

“ _Most_ of us,” Bumi corrected. Korra raised an eyebrow. “Don’t worry kid, you’re in here. You’re the main character.”

“What?” Korra finally pushed through so she could read over Jinora’s shoulder. The open page described some sort of speech she was giving at the Southern Water Tribe, and her brow furrowed as she read. “This is…you can’t just write about real people! I wasn’t raised by the Red Lotus! This is the exact opposite of what happened!”

“It’s a story, Korra,” Jinora said as she thumbed through the pages. “It’s not real, it’s not like I actually got my bending taken or Asami was an Equalist—hey! I had to wait in line for that, where are you going?”

“Bedtime reading,” she muttered, stalking off to her room with the book clutched tightly at her side. “I want to know exactly what I’m strangling Varrick for.”

Korra never did get to bed, and she only turned the last page when the sun had reappeared over the mountains to the east. She didn’t think she would have been able to sleep, anyway. Everything in Varrick’s book was complete and utter nonsense, but an infuriating kind of nonsense that an uninformed person might actually believe. By the time she finished the epilogue, Korra could hardly see straight through her seething and almost missed the folded-up flyer that fell from the back page.

“Come to a signing with the author, Ku-on Tim, at Chang’s Bookstore on the nineteenth,” she read before glancing at her calendar. “Today…I’ll kill Varrick too if he’s there.”

She found she had no appetite, and sat at the dining room table while she waited for the rest of the city to wake up, drumming her fingers against the cover of the book. Jinora wandered in next and snatched it back before Korra could protest. “Hey, I need that to beat people with!”

Jinora started to reply, but the whole island trembled before she got a word in. Korra slammed her foot into the ground to find the source of the quake, but it was coming from the north, not from down in the mantle beneath them. “What in the world is that?”

“I think Varrick sent a copy to Kuvira in prison,” Jinora said. “And you can’t go beating people over a piece of fiction, the rest of us thought it was funny.”

“The author didn’t throw you into an orgy.”

“Oh, right…come on, nothing happened to _you_ , these are characters, you might be taking this a little too seriously.” Korra continued grinding her teeth as she fumed. “Look, can you keep from hospitalizing the author until she finishes the next two books? I need to know what happens in the sequel and prequel—”

“More!? There’s going to be _more_!?”

Korra sprang from her seat and marched out the door, deaf to Jinora’s protests, and rocketed across the bay. She soaked everything on the docks when she skidded to a halt and hopped up from the water, ignoring the angry shouts as she turned down the shop street. What a shame it would be if every copy of that book mysteriously caught fire in the store…

Her plan faltered somewhat when she found several dozen people lined up outside the bookstore, chatting excitedly with their copies of _No Gods, No Masters_ in hand. Korra felt her stomach turn with every step, an unwilling eavesdropper to several conversations extolling its quality. It was readable, perhaps more than readable in sections, but the content itself was too perturbing for her to focus on anything else. She finally got to the front of the line and stopped dead when she saw who was there.

“Asami?”

Her fiancée turned at the mention of her name, a copy of the book jutting out of the top of her purse. “Korra! What are you doing up so early?”

Any words she might have had ready to reply with fell apart in her mouth when she saw what Asami was wearing. It took her a moment to puzzle out the characters on her shirt, realizing with a deep sinking feeling that it was her own name mashed together with Kuvira’s. _Korvira is canon_ , it said, and she only lost sight of it when Asami wrapped her in a hug. “Please tell me you’re here to kill Varrick, too…”

“Why would I do that?”

“The three hundred-odd pages of character assassination, for starters,” Korra said, sputtering to remember all the unpleasant details. “I mean, you’re an Equalist, I’m an anarchist, we break up, there’s an orgy with Mako and _Kuvira_ of all people—if you’re not here to beat that maniac within an inch of his life, then what are you doing here?”

She tapped on her copy of the book. “I was getting this signed to give you on your birthday, but it sounds like you already read the whole thing, darn. Maybe we could read it again together and have a good laugh?”

“Wait, you’re not angry at this? Not angry that book-me ended up with book-Kuvira?”

Asami shrugged. “I thought it was a little weird at first, writing fiction about real people like this, but I ended up enjoying it. Besides, book-me had too much of her own stuff going on to be with book-you, and book-Kuvira was much better for book-you’s character arc. You know, ex-anarchist winds up with royalty…poetically, it works so well.”

“Everyone on the island loved it, but still—”

“Korra, look.” Asami linked their hands together and pulled her a little closer. “It’s not real. This is. _This_ is our canon, the real world where we love each other no matter what it says in some hilariously trashy book. Okay?”

She leaned in for a long, slow kiss, one that reminded Korra of why they were wearing the rings they had picked out for one another. By the time Asami eased back, they were both a little red in the face, grinning and snickering like they always did. “How about,” Asami began, hooking a finger around Korra’s belt, “I get this signed, and then we can go write a better ending?”


	22. Aggressive Negotiations (Korvira)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _Continuing from the Korvirasami non-AU prompt: Korra, bottle of sake in hand, meets Kuvira at her army’s campsite outside the gates of Zaofu, hoping to persuade her to leave Zaofu peacefully. They retire to a tent and negotiate, but results are inconclusive, and they ask Baatar Jr. to help arbitrate._
> 
> Continuing from [Standing Orders](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5181146/chapters/12746552). For [mettahuman](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mettahuman/pseuds/mettahuman).

“I think it’s going to take a little more than a bottle of Dancing Dragon to settle things here, Korra. Zaofu can’t be allowed to remain an island, lording their technology over the rest of the empire.”

The guard outside the command tent straightened up and snapped off a salute when Kuvira approached with the Avatar in tow, a large bottle of dark liquid in her hand. “All I want to do is find a solution that works for everyone.”

“Zaofu joining the Earth Empire _is_  the solution that works for everyone,” Kuvira said as she pulled back the tent flap and they disappeared inside. Odd, the guard thought. Kuvira didn’t have any history with the Avatar as far as she knew, but she was allowed awfully close. Most everyone stayed at least at arm’s length with the commander, and that was if she liked them. She heard a cork being popped after a few minutes, and then some muffled voices that made her lean a little closer to the side of the tent so she could hear.

“Ah—diplomacy won’t work with such an aggressive stance, Avatar…”

“If we can’t agree on a position, we might as well clear the whole negotiating table.”

Something that sounded suspiciously like important map pieces clattered to the ground, but it had been made quite clear to her that their talks were not to be interrupted for anything less than the Zaofu government’s unconditional surrender. Minuscule tremors in the ground told her that one set of feet disappeared, and at the same time the narrow legs of the table inside started supporting much more weight.

“I don’t—mmff!—find aggressiveness endearing,” Kuvira said, her voice oddly shaky.

“No, that’s why I’ve got you up against a wall here. You got cocky.”

“I’ll show you cocky, Avatar…”

Metalbending was easy enough to sense for someone attuned to it, and the guard could easily feel it from inside the tent, although she didn’t have the faintest idea what they could be bending in there.

“Uh-uh. You’re not gonna be making a hard push here, Great Uniter.”

“This concession is meaningless,” Kuvira said amidst the creaking of the table. “Spirits…I see you didn’t spend all that time away wallowing.”

“Glad you appreciate the hard work.”

The Avatar’s voice had dropped to a dangerous low, and for a moment the guard considered tapping her heel into the ground to take stock of the situation inside the tent. There’d surely be a court-martial if something happened to the commander on her watch, but her instructions had been strangely specific. _No interruptions._  Kuvira was a skilled enough bender to tell if someone was using their seismic sense nearby.

After a few minutes spent in silence, the ground trembled just enough to feel it through the soles of her boots. There were…some kind of sounds from inside, she couldn’t quite identify it, and then Kuvira’s voice came back, unsteady and sounding as if she’d run a mile.

“Quite the proposal. Here’s my counteroffer.”

Okay, that definitely sounded like a scuffle, she thought. The guard had her hand on the tent flap when Kuvira emerged, smoothing down the front of her uniform. Her metal pauldrons were gone. Maybe she slipped them off to lean over the table better?

“Negotiations with the Avatar seem to have gotten tied up,” she said in calm, measured tones, fixing a lock of hair that had fallen out of place. “Find my fiance and have him come here. We need some arbitration.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the guard said, but Kuvira had already turned on her heel and disappeared inside the tent again. She called over a radio operator and scrolled through until she found the command frequency. “Uh, Captain Beifong, this is Kyoshi-Four, the commander asked for you at her tent. Something about…arbitration, sir.”

“Arbitration? Those were her exact words?”

“Yes, sir.”

He didn’t respond immediately. He didn’t respond at all, in fact, and she was about to try him again before a jeep screeched to a halt nearby and he came tumbling out. No sooner had he gotten to his feet than he dashed over to the tent, glasses bouncing on the bridge of his nose. Something was definitely strange with this. Was that some kind of code? She was only a sergeant, and a guard at that, not privy to whatever the officers got up to. Probably best to let it be.

“Sir? Are you all right?”

“No interruptions,” he said, gasping for breath. There was a lot of movement coming from inside the tent, she noticed as he recovered from his ten-foot sprint. Not walking, the position wasn’t changing, it was more like…squirming. Kuvira must’ve had the Avatar on the ropes. She nodded as he strode inside.


	23. Miscommunications (Huanko)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _Mako/Huan. Mako is a mechanic, and gets offered a ridiculous amount of money for an immediate rush repair job on a weekend. Goes there, finds several of Huan's creations about to fall apart, so he mistakenly welds them together incorrectly. Huan comes back halfway through and complains about the loss of his creations, but says Mako's technique was vivid to watch and he would like to talk about it, say over coffee. also, it was Huan's car that was busted. (please make this SFW is possible)_
> 
> For [moonwatcher13](http://archiveofourown.org/users/moonwatcher13/pseuds/moonwatcher13).

“ _How_ much?”

Mako drummed his fingers along the top of his steering wheel. Minute three of standstill traffic and the spillover from the parade still wasn’t letting up. Why was it that people suddenly lost the ability to drive when faced with the slightest disturbance in their routine? He scratched at his temple where his earpiece was brushing on his skin.

“Lots of zeroes, bro,” Bolin said, his voice almost drowned out by yet another cascade of car horns at whoever pulled into the intersection without enough room to clear it. Mako chewed on his tongue. _Calm beach, Mako…imagine a calm beach_. “I looked it up, it’s a studio over on Jīnshǔ Street. Rush job, huge upcharge. And I may have already said you’d be there right away,” he admitted with a nervous laugh.

“What?”

“It’s enough to pay the rent on the shop for two months!”

The calm beach became somewhat harder to visualize as a vein in his forehead swelled to prominence. “I’ve got my bass and amp loaded up here, this is my one day off! I can’t exactly reschedule this show,” Mako said, making the leather on his steering wheel squeak under his grip.

“Sorry, bro.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. If they didn’t need the money badly, he would’ve blown it off, but the kind of money Bolin was talking about wasn’t something he had the luxury of ignoring. “Send me the address.”

His phone buzzed a moment after the call cut out, and his GPS showed him an address a few streets away from the parade route. No way was he getting there from where he was. Instead Mako pulled his car into the nearest parking spot and fished his tool belt from the back seat, throwing an extra jacket over as much of his guitar case as he could.

The address was firmly in the artsy part of the city, with hole-in-the-wall coffee places and blocks of converted industrial lofts and ateliers as far as he could see. By comparison, his client’s address was rather plain. No exposed brick or ventilation, just a roller door with a human-sized counterpart built into it. He rapped on the door for a moment before he saw a note taped on the inside of a pane of glass. _Mechanic – Be right back, changed door code to work order number, you can go ahead and get started. –Huan_

Mako found the keypad and the lock slid out of place when he tried the work order, letting him step into a dusty, uncomfortably warm space that reminded him a bit of his own shop. There were a few gorgeous old cars and motorcycles up against one wall, and in the middle of the space was an occupied engine hoist with several parts on the floor. Someone really couldn’t wait for him to put an engine back together? It’d be easy money, at least. Mako hung his jacket by the door and got to work.

Or, he tried to. It only took him a few minutes to discover that someone had already tried to put the engine back together and failed, badly. “What in the—how do you put cylinders in backwards?”

The hope for easy money was circling the drain as he started taking the whole engine apart. Mako had to open the larger roller door to cool the space and go down to his undershirt before he could go about gutting the thing. Each piece he laid out only made him more confused. All the parts that were on the floor when he arrived had to have been left there deliberately, because the engine had been partially reassembled without them in place. Mako had better things to do with his weekend than clean up after some wannabe gearhead, but he still scrubbed the old motor oil off each piece and took careful count when he had disassembled the whole thing.

Once the engine was taken apart properly, it was a simple matter to put it back together with a small consideration for functionality. His earpiece chirped angrily several times, but it was Korra’s ringtone and his workflow was more important than explaining to their drummer where he was. Mako’s impatient client was still nowhere to be found, and that did nothing to endear them to him as he pinched his finger in one of the cylinders.

He clicked his earpiece to answer it the seventh time it went off, and he didn’t even get in a “hello” before Korra started. “Where the hell are you? We need you here for a sound check!”

“Good afternoon to you, too,” he said, looking down at his belt for the right wrench. “I’m working, blame Bolin. Should be done in about twenty minutes. Can’t you just assume I sound great like always?”

“Why the hell are you working ninety minutes before we’re set to go on? Kuvira’s ready to kill you,” Korra said, almost shouting into the line.

“Well, when she starts paying me she can dictate when I show up. Go have a funnel cake or something.”

Mako took out his earpiece and chucked it over to where he left his jacket before she had a chance to redial. “Okay, and…done. Now what does this go into?”

“It was an art project, actually.”

He jumped and wheeled around to see a rather svelte man around his age leaning against the door frame, looking forlornly at the once-again functional engine hanging from the hoist. “Oh, the work order said ‘engine repair,’ I figured it was for the broken-looking one,” Mako said, scratching the back of his neck and silently wondering if they had been paid upfront.

“No, this was meant to symbolize the brokenness of the modern societal machine. I called about this weird sound my motorcycle’s been making.”

“Guess art goes over my head sometimes.” Mako groaned inwardly at the realization that he had wasted the entire afternoon and looked at the nearest bike against the wall. “Your muffler’s cracked. I can order you a new one, but I’m guessing you’ll want to find a mechanic who doesn’t, uh…fix your art.”

“Actually, your process was really fascinating to watch,” he said, walking back into his studio and poking the side of the engine. “I’ll admit I was kind of horrified when I got back and you were undoing three weeks of work—”

 _That took three weeks?_ Mako thought.

“But the way you worked was so fluid. I almost wish I had been able to see more of it, I got caught up bringing stuff to my sister at the pride parade.”

“Yeah, I’m supposed to be playing that but I think Kuvira might actually kill me if I show up now.”

He cocked his head. “How do you know who my sister is?”

“She’s our singer…oh, _oh_ , you’re Huan Beifong, duh,” Mako said, suddenly aware that he was currently a mess of engine grease and sweat. “I’m Mako, by the way.”

“Yeah, she mentioned the cute bassist. I wouldn’t have made it a rush job, but the cars here are fixer-uppers and the bike is all I have to get around. I might’ve panicked a little. Sorry about monopolizing your day, maybe I could make it up to you with some coffee?” Huan asked, rubbing his arm. “There’s a good place on the next block.”

Mako did the math in his head, and he knew there was no way he could get back to his car and over to the stage in time for their show. Oh well, he thought. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”


	24. Izumi Week Day One: Girl's Night Out (Kyzumi)

“You were the one who said you needed a night out. We’re not letting you hole yourself up in the hotel and try to work.”

Izumi groaned as Kya grabbed her by the arm and frog-marched her along the boulevard to the pro-bending arena. Narrow columns of light cut in broad arcs across the cloudy, starless sky, visible from all of Republic City. She had seen pictures of the reconstructed building, a gleaming gem set proudly in the bay where its predecessor stood before the Earth Empire’s invasion years prior, but it didn’t quite compare to seeing it in person. How obvious, she thought. “I think you’re the one who said that, Kya. And then you and Lin bum-rushed me out here.”

“Yeah, you really need better security,” Lin said on her other side. She nudged a few pedestrians out of the way as they walked. “Relax, Izumi. The Fire Nation won’t fall apart in one night.”

“Clearly we’ve read different history books…”

“This is fun when Equalists aren’t storming the place, I promise. It even got the stick out of Tenzin’s ass for a while.”

“All right, all right.”

With a plain coat and her hair in a simpler style than she was used to, no one gave Izumi a second glance. Lin and Kya were much more recognizable in the city, and one more woman between them could easily pass unnoticed. There was a certain freedom in floating through a sea of anonymity, unbound from the long list of expectations always hanging over her in her own nation. Each step came a little easier, each breath of night air fresh and lively.

It didn’t hurt that she was there with two old friends, either. Lin and Kya had known her since before they knew words like _princess_ and _Fire Lord_ , and they stubbornly insisted on maintaining that informality whenever they could. It was a nice change, she had to admit.

She made a good show of resisting, but it was easy for Izumi to relish in Kya’s strong grip on her arm as they went inside, and she took a step closer when Kya let her go. The frantic shuffle of people in the arena’s foyer was an altogether different energy than she was used to in the palace, an excited bustle breaking into streams of people filing through doors to the stands or searching around for friends. A few of the teams on the schedule for the evening were signing autographs and posing for pictures with fans, but she saw little of it before they guided her to a set of stairs leading up to the box seats.

Their booth was situated just to the left of center, elevated enough for them to easily take in the entire field while some staff walked the playing surface to ensure it was completely clean. The players would make short work of their efforts soon enough. Izumi took the middle seat while Kya sat to her left and put her feet up on the railing, stretching out as the stands filled up above them.

“Get comfortable, I want to see what’s on tap,” Lin said, closing the door behind her.

“So?” Kya asked. One finger poked lightly at Izumi’s unadorned topknot, making it bob up and down. “When are you going to start trembling because you don’t have some important paperwork in front of you?”

“You really ought to leave the jokes to Bumi, he got the sense of humor between the three of you.”

“That’s okay, I got the looks.”

Izumi had no good retort ready for that. All she could do was relax in her seat and pass a tiny bit of flame back and forth between each fingertip on one hand, her nervous little habit that persisted through every attempt to subdue it. “I don’t spend all my time working, you know,” Izumi finally said, moving the flame to her palm and closing her fist to snuff it. “We even have pro-bending in Kasai, I go at the start of the season.”

“No, that’s knockoff pro-bending, they’re all firebenders in that league.”

“We don’t have a great many waterbenders and earthbenders…in the Fire Nation,” Izumi said flatly.

Lin returned with three small glasses of kaoliang and took the seat on Izumi’s right, growling when Kya reached over for one of the drinks. “Back off, these are for me.”

“Oh, stop it,” Kya said, snatching two glasses and giving one to Izumi. Lin had gone right for the strong stuff as always, and it burned powerfully all the way down her throat. It was rare for firebenders to get properly drunk, and Izumi could never claim to have gotten as trashed as her friends, but the kaoliang seemed to set her well on her way.

Lin cracked a wry smile as Izumi belted the whole thing back and hissed in satisfaction. “And you said you didn’t need a night off.”

“Drunk Izumi!” Kya said, throwing her hands up and spilling some of her own drink down her bare arm. She bent it back into the glass, red-faced and looking intently out at the arena to avoid the grins of her friends. “I was excited, okay? We barely ever get to see you since you started running the Fire Nation.”

“We didn’t see much of you while you were the chief of the Southern Water Tribe,” she countered. Lin nodded in between sips of her drink, intent on savoring it slowly. Izumi sighed and laid an arm across Kya’s shoulder. “Look, let’s not argue about this. I don’t like being busy all the time any more than you two. The first match is about to start, let’s make the most of the time we do have together.”

For as quick as Kya could get testy, she could bounce back to her usual self just as fast. She scooted over in her seat and nodded as she put a hand up over Izumi’s on her shoulder. “Okay, who do you like in this matchup?”

Three unlucky bets later, Izumi had lost a map of all the Fire Nation palace’s secret passages, her personal airship, and the naming rights to her navy’s new carrier. “I really thought the Lion Vultures had it that time,” she said, watching staff fish them out of the water.

“You should really quit while you still have the shirt on your back.” Lin’s speech was slightly slurred, a result of the half-dozen empty glasses she had balanced on the railing with uncanny precision. “Kinda surprised Kya didn’t go for that first.”

“Why can’t you be a quiet drunk, like your sister?” Kya asked, reaching around Izumi to whack Lin in the back of the head. “Su just gets sleepy and giggly…all right, do you want to win back your blimp and _Katara_?”

Izumi gripped hard at the frame of her glasses. “You can’t name one of our ships after your mother.”

“We’ll see. Come on, there’s one more match. Double or nothing, winner take all. I’ll even let you pick the team. You win, you get your stuff back. I win,” Kya said, flicking at the pendant on her necklace, “I get another one of these.”

The first one had been a nightmare to make, and Izumi could see around the corner of what she was saying, but a good bet was hard to resist. “Deal. I hope you didn’t put too much thought into how you’d redecorate my airship,” she said, looking through her program and finally tapping her finger slowly over the last matchup of the night. “I’ll take the Fire Ferrets to win.”

“It’s like you want me to have your stuff, but it’s not my fault if you can’t resist an inside bet. They’re not the same team that—Korra?”

As the bridges extended to ferry the players onto the arena, Kya pulled her feet off the railing and fumed. The Avatar and the rest of her old team were playing, and their opponents seemed to realize it at about the same time. Most of the crowd cheered, while the sections supporting the other team groaned in unison.

Calling it a match was too generous, Izumi thought. The other team put up a good effort, but they couldn’t get a hit in on three master benders, one of whom was the Avatar. At least it was sporting. Kya grumbled as she fished the airship keys from her pocket and returned them. “I’d be happy to give you a ride, if you want.”

“I’ll bet you would,” Lin mumbled, slumped over in her seat. They both turned their own particular shades of red, and all Lin could do was give them a broad smile.

“Kya’s right, you get too talkative when you drink. Take a nap.”

Lin stuck out her tongue and remained defiantly conscious. They stayed in their booth until the stands were nearly empty, both to make their exit easier and to give themselves a moment to shake off the effects of the kaoliang. Stumbling out wasn’t exactly the image she wanted to project if someone recognized her.

“Come on, Chief,” Kya said, putting one of Lin’s arms over her shoulder as they got to their feet. A sudden and rather unbecoming pang of jealousy flared deep in Izumi’s chest, but she shook it off. It was easy to lose the feeling amidst the dizziness that hit her when she stood up. “Are you hungry? There’s a place nearby that makes some good noodles. My treat.”

“I could go for some food,” Izumi said as they made their way slowly down the stairs. “What about her?”

“Where did he get to…there he is. Hey, Detective!”

One of the Avatar’s friends, the firebender if she remembered correctly, turned at the sound of her voice in time to have Kya almost throw Lin at him. “Your boss needs to sleep one off.”

“Don’t look at me like that, Mako,” Lin grumbled, leaning on him for support.

“Problem solved. Shall we?” Kya asked, holding out her arm. Izumi hooked her own arm through and squeezed.

“What a gentlewoman.”

It was far too easy to let old memories come simmering to the surface as they went along, navigating the darkened streets of Republic City’s harbor district. The promise of a quiet, private meal, the sweetly awkward way Kya tried to set the pace despite having the shorter stride between them, the protective, possessive pressure of Kya’s fingers gripping at her arm…she felt like little more than a teenager again whose only care in the world was the girl at her side. It was a welcome change, really.

“I remember this place, this is the same dive you took me to when we were kids,” Izumi said as Kya wove them through the unoccupied tables with practiced ease. “Amazing it’s still standing.”

“Narook’s isn’t a dive, it has character!”

She wasn’t there for the character, that was for sure. Izumi made no more objections as they claimed a table in the back, a small rickety thing that was so narrow their legs bumped together underneath. That may very well have been by design, she thought as a waitress came by with menus. “You know it’s spending time with you that’s important, not where we do it.”

Kya’s face could hold a gorgeous blush.

Izumi had been too long away from Republic City and her friend, and they had more than enough catching up for whiling away several quiet hours in an old noodle shop. There was a pleasant ease in talking to Kya about whatever popped into their minds, an opportunity to be frank and unmeasured she didn’t even realize she had missed so much. Missed Kya so much.

“I think our waitress is giving us the ‘it’s time to go’ look,” Izumi said, picking at the last few noodles in her bowl.

A light fog had fallen over the district, forming a hazy interplay with the softly lit streetlamps dotting the road. They picked up their pace to catch a streetcar trundling their way, and found it empty at the late hour. Both of them were too tired for pretense, and they threaded their fingers together as they took their seats. “You really should come visit more often,” Kya said.

“We both know it’s not that simple.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Izumi gasped as Kya nuzzled against her, a taunt she was all too familiar with, one she was badly tempted to rise to. “You know, you’re welcome to come visit _me_. All of my children are off on their own now, and it’s been…quiet, since Ren passed.”

The mention of her late husband made Kya stiffen up, but she relaxed shortly after and squeezed Izumi’s hand tight. “How well do you think I’d do stuck in a palace?”

“Oh, I don’t have any delusions about you being a kept woman,” Izumi said quietly, running her free hand through a stray lock of Kya’s hair. “It was nearly impossible to get you to stay in any tavern for more than a night or two when we were in the Earth Kingdom.”

“I’m half-nomad, I like to wander,” Kya countered.

A dimly lit sign shone through the fog and indicated the entrance to the hotel coming up along the road. They hopped from the streetcar onto the sidewalk, and Kya caught Izumi when she stumbled on the curb and nearly lost her balance.

“Whoa, I’ve got you,” she said, pulling the Fire Lord upright. Neither of them were in any hurry to let go. “I’ve got you.”

Maybe it was the lingering traces of the alcohol, or the exhaustion, or the way the whole night seemed to wind everything back forty years. Izumi leaned down to close the small height difference between them and pressed their lips together tentatively, questioningly. It could only really be called a kiss in the barest of terms. She knew she had no right, not after the way she’d ended things, but she let her arms hang loose so Kya could pull away if she wanted. She didn’t. Kya kissed her back with long decades to make up for, holding on so tight it almost took the air from Izumi’s lungs. Her salty, sweet taste brought along too many memories to process, and instead all Izumi could do was let a few tears well up and roll down her cheeks.

They pulled back by inches, and then only to draw much-needed breath. It was only after the ninth or tenth desperate, pleading kiss that they remembered they were on a sidewalk in the middle of the night. Nervous laughs filled the air between them, like two teenagers caught in a quiet corner by their parents again. “Can I encourage you to wander upstairs instead of back to the island tonight?” Izumi asked, straightening her glasses with one hand. The other still held onto Kya’s, as if she was afraid she would slip away without the contact.

She grinned and pulled Izumi toward the hotel entrance. “I’d say you need more nights out, Your Majesty.”

“Oh, definitely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll be able to find the remainder of my Izumi week prompts in [their own fic listing](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6553468/chapters/14993962).


	25. Held (Trans!Korra/Asami) (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _I need someone to write me fic about Asami riding Korra’s dick like NOW. Like, now. It can be omegaverse or not, idc, i n e e d i t_
> 
> For [RaeDMagdon](http://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeDMagdon).

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Korra felt Asami’s hands pause just as she got a good grip on the hem of her shirt. Every uneven breath was labored with hot, crushing need, and much as she appreciated Asami’s respect for her boundaries, she was ready to go out of her mind with anticipation. Korra grinned and nudged Asami’s hands upward, exposing the hard tone of her stomach. “Yes, I’m sure. I…I want this.”

“Just being certain.”

By slow, torturously slow degrees, she rolled up Korra’s shirt, paying no mind to the thicker padding in the chest before she pulled it over Korra’s head and tossed it to floor near the foot of the bed. Asami kissed her reddened cheeks over and over, leaving smeared bits of lipstick as her hands found their way up to Korra’s small breasts, lightly twisting the stiff little nipples there to eke out a reaction. The long, low moan that answered her was all too encouraging, and Asami tried pinching one as Korra clawed at the buttons on her blouse, dexterity gone. “This—off, now…”

She winced from the now-absent touch and wondered how she ever survived without it as Asami leaned back. Each button came undone at a teasing, taunting pace, with Asami perfectly aware of what she was doing. She slapped Korra’s hands away every time she tried to pull the whole thing off at once, swishing her hips back and forth until she finished with the blouse and peeled off her camisole along with it. A tastefully lacy red bra was all that was left, and that quickly joined the pile of discarded clothes along with everything else. Korra’s hand skirted up her side but stopped, wavering at the swell of her breast until Asami smiled and guided her the rest of the way. “I want this, too…”

The zipper on the side of her skirt gave way easily, and Korra felt the whole room get warmer when she realized that was the last of Asami’s clothing. She bit her lip so hard she thought she tasted blood as anticipation knifed through her, tightening up hard in her belly. “Can I take these off?” Asami asked, fingers hooked into the top of Korra’s pants. Pushing past her jitters, Korra swallowed hard and nodded, supporting herself with her hands so Asami could tug them down.

Meeting her girlfriend’s gaze was suddenly harder when she realized her briefs had gone along with her pants. Her ears burned, and she felt tears threatening even as Asami’s hand settled on her cheek, cupped softly to match the contours of her face. “Korra, please, look at me,” she said, every quiet word a roll of warmth across the sensitive skin of her throat. “We can stop, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable—”

“No! No, I’m not going to chicken out this time. Just—just give me a minute.”

Asami waited patiently, straddling Korra’s lap and peppering her neck and shoulders with light kisses that left fire in their wake. She took deep breaths while letting her hand run along Asami’s back, blinked away the wetness in her eyes, and pulled her close. Korra shuddered when she pressed up against Asami’s smooth folds and felt the wetness there, driving her to a painful, embarrassing stiffness. “That’s my girl,” Asami whispered, rocking her hips and sucking in a sharp breath when she finally worked Korra inside. “My beautiful girl…”

Her assurances dulled the discomfort somewhat in Korra’s mind as her hands threaded up in Korra’s short brown hair, and she paused until Korra nodded for her to continue. Once she was sure Asami wasn’t going to walk out or laugh at her, she could take a moment and start to enjoy the new sensation, the wonderful wet warmth pressing down on her, enveloping her, moving along in perfect counter.

Asami kissed her, a deep pleading kiss with her tongue pressing desperately forward, and Korra was happy to let her in. She knew Asami’s taste, relished in it, knew she could never, ever get enough of it. Propped up on her knees, Asami worked herself back up and then down again, a tiny bit at first, then more and more as they built a rhythm. Korra had to break away for air, leaving a glistening trail between their lips, and descended on the spot she knew Asami liked so much, licking and nipping at her collarbone. Her whole body shook terribly, breaking their cadence, but now they were both happy to work back up to it, Korra bucking her hips upward when Asami worked down. One hand slipped along Asami’s chest and stomach, through the neatly trimmed patch of black hair between her legs and finally resting on the bright pink hood of her clit, threatening all of Asami’s carefully-won composure when she started to rub in small, soft circles.

“D-don’t stop,” she said through a moan, rolling her hips into Korra’s hand as their careful pace lost out to simple desire. Asami worked back down until she was taking Korra up to the hilt, rocking back and forth for the mounting pleasure Korra was eager to tease out. The ends of her nails dug into Korra’s shoulders until they squeezed almost painfully. “Don’t stop, Korr— _ah_!”

Tremors tore up through her body and left as quiet, satisfied whimpers while she took a moment to steady herself. Korra tightened up wordlessly when she started again, gasping and thrusting her hips up after only a few moments more when her own orgasm rippled out in hot, cresting waves. The reality of it started to hit her when the pleasure started burning low, but Asami was there for her, steadying her shaking hands and pulling her into a long, slow kiss to set her at ease. She didn’t feel so strange or so different with Asami’s arms wrapped securely around her.

“I love you so much, Korra,” she whispered, holding her tight. “I love my sweet, wonderful girl.”

“And I love mine,” Korra said as they fell back into the bedsheets.


	26. Wax (Korpal) (NSFW) (Commission)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Commission: _continuing from Korra and Opal's[last kink-fueled romp](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5181146/chapters/12719192), they get involved with a bit of wax play._

_Knock knock knock_ —

Korra looked up from her coursework and went over to open the door only to find Opal waiting in the hall, shopping bags in hand. She stood up on her toes to kiss Korra before slipping inside, depositing everything on the kitchen counter. “Hey, how was class?”

“Same old, same old,” Opal said. One, two, three pints of ice cream came out of her shopping bag and went into the freezer before she had a chance to push up her glasses. “Know-it-alls trying to one-up the TA, wasting everyone’s time.”

“I’m sure Asami handled that well.”

“She started in with the factors affecting microstates and the GDP of Seychelles, that shut him up pretty good. Oh, and Bolin found me on the quad, but I told him I already had plans for tonight.”

“Do you now?” Korra asked in her best teasing voice as she glanced through the rest of the bags. “Oohh, soy candles, these burn at pretty low temperatures. What happened to sky-high limits?”

Korra retrieved one long white candle from the box and poked Opal wick-first with it, just to have it snatched from her fingers. “Pain and heat are different things, you know that. These are plenty hot for me.” Opal dropped it back in its box. “But I guess you’ll find that out later, won’t you?”

She gasped and laughed when Korra picked her up, nipping at the sensitive, ticklish skin of her bare throat. Her legs wrapped around Korra’s waist to close the distance between them, and a low moan built in her throat when Korra squeezed possessively at the bottom of her thigh. “I’d rather find out now,” she whispered, and bit hard at Opal’s collarbone. “Grab the candles.”

It was an agonizing fifteen steps to the bedroom, and Korra made sure she felt every inch of it. She paused every so often to shuffle a few papers around or adjust the blinds, and each time Opal whined and gripped harder at her shoulders. “Hey, don’t grab me too hard, people might start thinking you smack me around,” Korra said with a wicked little grin.

Finally they stumbled into Korra’s room and Opal landed on the bed, sitting up while Korra brought the dimmer lights up just enough to see what they were doing. Once Korra had done away with her shirt and had only a black sports bra covering her upper body, she got onto the bed and slowly undid the buttons on Opal’s blouse, starting from the bottom. “I see someone’s been hitting the gym,” she said, brushing her fingers along the slight tone in Opal’s stomach.

“Do you like it?”

“Of course…so what’s off-limits here?” Korra asked, popping another button. “I’m not dripping wax in your hair or face.”

“The front of my neck,” Opal said before one hand drifted down between her legs. “Or here.”

“Okay.” Korra tugged the rest of the blouse apart. Opal’s bra went along with it, and Korra nudged her onto her back. Her pants and panties disappeared in a swift flurry of motion, leaving her in nothing but a blush and a pair of glasses for Korra’s hungry gaze, and even those went when Korra lifted them away and set them carefully on the nightstand. “I think this’ll work better,” she breathed, slipping a black silk sleeping mask over Opal’s eyes as she squirmed in anticipation. “Red out if it’s too hot, I’ll get an ice pack.”

Opal nodded, now all too aware of the various dips and edges in Korra’s voice without her sight to rely on. “Good. Turn over.”

The cool fabric of the towel Korra had laid out beforehand pressed up to her as she nestled in on her stomach, swaying her hips from side to side. Her hands shook when she heard the spark of a lighter, and she gripped the bars of the headboard with a wide smile into the pillow. “Such a beautiful canvas,” Korra said quietly, holding the first candle over the small of her back so she could feel the flame. Opal whimpered at the heat, pressure building up between her legs, but then Korra took it away, replacing it with the firm touch of her hand. “I bet this isn’t the first time someone’s painted you all white and sticky, is it?”

She shook her head, and then her left calf stung with a short, sudden spate of heat. The wax itself started rolling down the sides, but the delicious bite of pain went directly downward. Her hips rocked desperately against the bed sheets, trying to get the barest bit of stimulation to her clit, but Korra pressed down on her back and held her in place. “Ah ah, I’ll decide when you come, understand?”

“Yes…”

A second pinch of hot wax dripped down onto her leg, then a third, and Opal hissed somewhere between pain and pleasure. “That’s my girl,” Korra said, delivering a short, firm tap to her clit while the wax continued to fall. And then, in a low, almost growling tone, “ _Mine_.”

“Y-yours,” Opal gasped out, panting as she wondered where the wax would fall next. “All— _ah_!”

The heat hit the soft sole of her foot, and she had to stifle tears when she cried out. Her toes curled, but that only sharpened the pain licking up along her leg. Korra tapped on her back, holding the candle well away until Opal calmed down enough to give her a quick thumbs-up. “Just a shock,” she said before settling back in against the pillow.

Korra started up again, slipping over to her other thigh and giving her ass a good hard squeeze. The candle was as hot as it would get, and the wax came down faster, dripping almost continuously and running down the sides of her soft, smooth legs. “Little Miss Fireproof. You should see your legs, they’re so perfectly splattered…”

“Take a picture?” Opal asked, though they both knew it was more assent to an unasked question, and spread her legs wide for a better view. There was some shuffling she couldn’t place, and then the distinctive _snap_ of Korra’s phone. Her cheeks flushed at the thought of her shameful display, but the rest of her body had a simpler reaction, spilling a few beads of arousal down into the little line of hair between her legs. Korra sparked her lighter for another candle, and then the heat hit her back, wax slipping down along the bumps of her spine.

Opal couldn’t puzzle out the pattern Korra was forming, leaving her little recourse but to lay back and enjoy the hot, sharp lashes coursing over her skin. She wanted so badly to give some relief to the pressure building under her belly, to just come already after a day of simmering in anticipation, but she was obedient. Korra shifted the direction of the wax trail, and she contented herself with the sweet pain winding its way over her back.

Korra didn’t light another candle right after burning down the second, and instead flipped Opal over and pulled her into a sitting position. She caught Opal’s lips in a deep, needful kiss with barely a thought to removing her blindfold, tongue flitting over hers. In an instant, Korra’s fingers were down between her legs, easing back the hood of her clit and lightly pinching. She nearly collapsed into Korra’s embrace and rolled her hips in counter, biting her lip as they found a rhythm she knew would quickly put her over the edge.

“You want to come, don’t you?” Korra asked before biting down hard on her collarbone.

“Yes, please…”

Her hand worked faster, building up more heat than any candle could. Opal’s head was swimming, a haze of untended arousal drowning every thought. “Oh fuck, Korra—!”

And then Korra’s hand was gone, leaving such an absence that there was actual pain to go with it. Tears fell down Opal’s cheeks at the denial, and she wept as she shamelessly pushed her hips toward Korra’s. “Please,” she choked out, barely coherent enough not to stumble over her words. “Please, Korra, I need to come…”

“You’ll come when I tell you, not before. Lie down.”

The blindfold slipped on again before Korra nudged her back down to the bed. Her lighter sparked, and the sting of heat on her stomach was at least some small solace from the terrible, throbbing ache between her legs. Obedient or not, stillness was beyond her, and Opal writhed under each hot drip, gasping wordlessly when the first drops of wax spilled across her breasts. She cried out, gripping so hard into the sheets that her fingers ached along with the rest of her body, and Korra tapped inquisitively on her side again. Opal gave her another trembling thumbs-up. She would’ve gone along with anything that pulled focus to the pressure ready to burst through her, but she trusted Korra.

Soon her chest and sides were as much of a mess as her back, and the slight resistance to her motions the hardening wax gave only made her squirm more. Opal choked back a gasp when a bit of wax finally dripped on one stiff nipple, sending a jolt down through her chest and making her leg kick out. Tear lines snaked out from under the blindfold, and the arch in her back gave way when she heard the candle go out and drop into a waiting container with the others. All at once Korra was on top of her, the weight of her body pressing down while one hand laid agonizingly close to her clit, fingers rubbing slow, torturous circles.

“It’s a shame I need all this wax to paint you,” Korra said, her voice little more than a low purr beside Opal’s ear, and she shuddered from the warmth of Korra’s breath along her neck. Her toes curled when two of Korra’s fingers sank effortlessly into her, hooking the slightest bit to strike a sorely sensitive spot. “I’d love to do it myself, make sure everyone knew you were mine, fill you up the way you deserve…”

Opal whimpered as Korra started rocking her hand. “Such a taut little tummy now, too,” she whispered, fingers spreading to counter Opal clenching down on her. “Would you like that? Wearing me all over you?”

“Y-yes,” Opal stammered out, punctuated by gasps and moans. She’d considered not mentioning that interest to Korra, if only because it lacked some veracity between two women, but now she was so glad she did. Korra’s thumb rested so painfully close to her clit she could feel it there, utterly still. “Yes, please, mark me…”

“Come for me first.”

Korra’s thumb flicked, and Opal broke down. Her orgasm tore up through her, hotter and sharper than the cooling wax on her skin, driving every nerve to oversensitivity and bringing on a fresh wave of cathartic tears. The blindfold came off entirely and Korra kissed all along her neck and cheek, soft little pecks that pressed only the slightest bit on her skin and smeared away some of the tears. Her fingers slipped away, leaving Opal pressing down on nothing, but instead Korra’s arms wrapped securely around her and pulled them onto their sides as aftershocks began wracking her twitching, exhausted body.

“You did so well with the heat,” Korra said, stroking slowly along her back. “I’m so proud of you. We’ll take a shower later and get you all cleaned off, okay?”

All Opal could manage was a small sound of acknowledgement as she drifted through her subspace on the endorphin rush. Korra hummed and whispered little praises all the while, holding her close and smearing some of the warmer wax on her own skin in the process. “I’m thirsty,” Opal finally said in a small, shaking voice. Korra reached over to her nightstand and retrieved a bottle of water for her, pulling back slightly so Opal could prop up on her elbow and take a drink. She looked down at her girlfriend. “You look all sticky.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Korra kissed her again without any of the hunger she’d had before, gentle and cautious, and Opal received her warmly. “Nothing hurts too bad? Your foot?”

“No, it’s just a little sting now,” Opal said. “I don’t think I can stand after that orgasm, though…can I see the picture you took?”

She nodded and grabbed her phone and Opal’s glasses. With the world back in proper focus, Opal flicked through the gallery until she found herself splayed across the bed, legs covered in thin white lines. She cocked an eyebrow. “I look so weird from this angle,” she said as she deleted the picture.

Korra squeezed lightly at her butt. “Oh, I think you look good from every angle.”

“You’re hardly impartial. What was it you were drawing on my back?”

“Um…I was twining our initials together,” she said, color rising in her cheeks. One of her hands reached back to trace. “K and O for Korra and Opal, P and B for Palluq and Beifong.”

Opal shook her head and curled into Korra’s arms. “You’re the sappiest domme in the world, Korra.”


	27. Payback (Kunora) (NSFW) (Commission)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This commission is a little detailed to explain in full, so here's the laconic: _College AU, Jinora and Kuvira were both gunning for Mako, he went with Kuvira, Jinora's not happy about that, happens across Kuvira some months later after she and Mako broke up, decides to indulge in some vindictiveness._
> 
> For [moonwatcher13](http://archiveofourown.org/users/moonwatcher13/).

The wind bit hard, battering the tiny bit of cheek not covered by her upturned collar. Jinora watched her breath plume up at the crosswalk while she waited for the traffic to stop, tiny white swirls lost in the haze of the streetlamps around her. Suddenly her cheap apartment across town from campus, which had seemed like such a good choice in the summer, lost most of its appeal. If her toes didn’t break off in her shoes before she got home, she’d have to look into the bus schedules or maybe see about talking her way back into the on-campus housing. Opal still needed a roommate.

Squeaking, half-frozen brakes and tires crunching over unplowed snow broke her out of her thoughts. Her hands balled into fists in the pockets of her coat as she hurried through the crosswalk, half from the cold and half from annoyance. She knew Bolin and Opal meant well, trying to bring her along to that party, but one flash of Mako out of the corner of her eye had been enough for her to concoct an excuse and duck out just in time to miss the last bus for an hour. Another gust of wind picked up and nearly took off her hat. The wonder of upstate winters was rapidly wearing thin.

Jinora stopped a few blocks from her apartment, frozen down to the bone, and looked through a window to a very quiet and, perhaps most importantly, very warm-looking bar. She peered into the glass, mentally debating the merits of having a drink or two after a day of grading essay after awful essay, when she noticed a familiar face at the end of the bar, nursing a dark beer with two empty glasses beside her. Her hands clenched in her pocket again. Kuvira was a less intimidating figure when she was in her cups and bleary-eyed, and Jinora’s well-run rancor mingled with confusion at seeing her there.

_Walk away, walk away, walk away._

The bartender grimaced when she opened the door and brought a blast of cold air with her, but Jinora couldn’t care much when the bar was so bright and blessedly warm. If she’d had any feeling left in her face she would’ve sighed in relief. Her hair frizzed up a bit when she pulled off her hat and took a seat near the end of the bar. What possessed her to walk in and sit so close rather than go home and drink the beer in her fridge was beyond her, but there she was. “Sake, please,” she said, undoing a few buttons on her coat and shrugging off her backpack so she could move around.

“What’re you doing here, Sandei?” came Kuvira’s deep, raspy voice. She wasn’t drunk enough to start slurring her words, but she was getting there. No first name basis, then. That was fine.

“I live two blocks from here, Beifong.” The bartender brought her a shot of sake, and she belted it back without preamble. She knew it wasn’t _really_ making her warm, quite the opposite, but the heat spreading out through her chest begged to differ. “My apartment is right next to yours.”

Another reason to get back into student housing. Jinora made a mental note to ask Opal about her roommate situation soon, but staying with Kuvira’s sister presented its own set of issues. “Oh. Yeah. Well, bottoms up,” she said, and finished the rest of her beer. From close up Jinora saw her cheeks were the slightest bit puffy, either from cold or crying. Her coat was slung over the back of her chair and she was motioning for her fourth beer, making the cold outside a somewhat unlikely source. “Ugh, Belhaven sucks.”

“I thought you’d be at that party with Mako tonight,” Jinora said, not bothering to hide the distaste in her voice.

Kuvira bit down hard on her lip and tightened her grasp on the now-empty glass in front of her. “Yeah, I did too. But I didn’t want to spend all night getting interrogated about why he dumped me.”

_Serves you right._

“I’m sorry.”

The words felt strange on her tongue. For anyone else it would’ve been sincere, and maybe it was even for Kuvira, but the guilty vindictive feeling in her gut was all too obvious, and twisting the knife felt so much better than it had any right to. She wasn’t being needlessly cruel, Jinora told herself. Only getting even for all the nights her neighbor made the thinness of the wall their bedrooms shared all too clear.

Kuvira bit back a fresh round of tears and dove into her next drink, and Jinora could’ve sworn she heard several expletives growled under her breath. “I’ll bet you are. So go get him, what are you waiting for? Just don’t turn into an uptight perfectionist, or he’ll drop you for wanting to finish an essay.”

Jinora didn’t respond right away. She let herself think about it for a moment, dragging Mako back to her apartment like she’d wanted to in the first place, getting pinned against the wall in a deep bruising kiss before he ran his tongue along the crook of her neck, bumping her headboard against the shared wall and vocalizing every thrust and gasp until she was absolutely certain it carried into the next room. Her chest tightened.

Of course, a Kuvira-shaped wrench had gone flying into that plan, and instead she spent six months and far too many nights either fuming or working herself up to a shameful, trembling orgasm while listening to them get within an inch of breaking Kuvira’s bed. She’d come just as much to the both of them, now that she thought about it. “I’m not waiting for anything—”

“It was a fucking essay!” Kuvira said, slamming her open hand into the bar. Her empty glasses rattled, and Jinora snatched the last half-full glass from the edge and set it back a ways. The bartender watched them for a moment until she was sure Kuvira wasn’t going to go and damage her property, then made a simple swiping motion to let Jinora know she was cut off. “It was…it was just a fucking essay.”

She didn’t cry in a way Jinora was used to seeing. Kuvira didn’t retch or heave, and apart from the tears snaking unceremoniously down her cheeks and the quick shudder of her jacket, it didn’t look like she was doing anything at all. Some of the seething Jinora had set herself to started to seem the tiniest bit excessive. Rubbing salt in the wound gave her a fleeting bit of satisfaction, nothing more.

“Get your coat on,” Jinora said, pulling a few bills from her wallet and dropping them on the bar. Kuvira looked blankly at her for a moment, but ultimately obeyed without protest. She worked her braid out from against her jacket collar but it came loose instead, spilling thick, snow-kissed black hair down her shoulders. “You’re going home, I can’t watch any more of this.”

“Okay.”

Her voice was small and weak and far-off, entirely unlike anything Jinora knew about her. She’d fixed her eyes on the floor, and her arms hung at her side once she buttoned up her coat. Maybe she’d passed some threshold of drunkenness, in which case she needed to go home anyway. “Let’s go before it starts snowing any worse.”

Again Kuvira made no protest as she paid her tab and followed Jinora out onto the sidewalk. The sake did little to brace her against the cold, but the wind and snow didn’t buffet her as much with Kuvira standing at her side to take the brunt of it. She cocked an eyebrow under her hat.

_You’re not making it easy to be mad at you._

They were civil to each other at best, and that was before Kuvira yanked Mako out from under her. Most of the time they were content to trade fleeting glares at the bus stop in front of their building, but now all she did was watch her boots trudging through the snow. Some of her eyeliner had smudged, but otherwise she still cut a striking silhouette when they passed under the streetlamps, and an insecure part of Jinora told her she shouldn’t be surprised that Mako hewed toward her. She felt her hands balling up.

_Okay, now it’s easy to be mad again._

The light over their building’s front door was flickering again, casting garish shadows on them as Jinora tried to get her key in place with shaky fingers. She peeled off her hat and scarf as the elevator began its slow ascent to the fourth floor, and she felt Kuvira’s gaze flash over to her every so often.

With her fingers a bit warmer and more dexterous, she got her house key out much easier and shuffled in, flicking on the lights and emptying the contents of her pockets onto the counter before dropping everything else. “That’s got to be some good karma—”

She stopped when she turned around and saw Kuvira a few steps past the threshold, boots dripping snow onto her carpet, eyes still fixed downward. “Your apartment is next door, Beifong.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Kuvira turned on her heel to leave, but Jinora’s conscience got the better of her. There’d be no good karma to be had if she went home stinking drunk and hurt herself in her stupor. “Wait, wait. How much did you have?”

“Not enough,” Kuvira said sullenly.

Her night had already taken a strange turn, it really couldn’t get any stranger. “Sit down, I’ll make some tea. Need to sober you up, I can’t let you go breaking your arm or something stumbling around your place.”

At least she was docile. Kuvira sat on the edge of the couch while Jinora put her teapot on and dragged her backpack over to the coffee table. She handed the remote to Kuvira. “Put on something mindless, I have to grade the rest of these papers. And take those boots off, you’re leaving a trail.”

She did so and started flicking through channels. Jinora had the stack of essays in her hand, but she watched Kuvira for a moment instead, studying her high cheeks and the sharp line of her jaw. _What’s with her? What’s with_ me _? I don’t even like Kuvira, Opal’s the only reason I never kicked her ass._

That would end badly, Jinora knew. She’d seen Kuvira in the hall coming back from the gym in the basement more than once, and while she was wiry, Kuvira was a solid wall of toned, sculpted muscle under those clothes. She shook her head clear and started in on the papers until her teapot began to whistle.

“You can take your coat off, you know,” Jinora said as she set two cups of tea on the table. “Here. You need to drink something that isn’t alcohol.”

“I—thanks.”

Kuvira was quiet the whole time Jinora worked, and apart from a few trips to the bathroom she stayed rooted to the couch, gradually straightening up and taking on her usual air as the alcohol worked its way through her system. By the time Jinora was on the last essay, she’d stretched out and laid an arm across the back of the couch, her fingers barely bumping Jinora’s shoulder through her sweater. It was an odd touch, light and firm all at once, maybe inquisitive, but not something that demanded a response. On the other hand…

“Why’d you do all this?”

Jinora set down the paper and looked at Kuvira. She’d fixed her braid and taken off her eyeliner, but even without it her usual expression persisted. Resting haughty face, Jinora decided. “Your sister is my friend,” she said after a moment of searching for the least ambiguous answer. “And someone had to drag you out of that bar anyway, you’re pathetic when you wallow.”

She expected a barb or smart remark in return—it’s what she would have done—but Kuvira only straightened up and bit her lip. “Go on.”

“What?”

“You’ve obviously got something to say to me,” Kuvira said through long, heavy breaths. “Say it.”

 _She wants me to insult her?_ Jinora knitted up her brow. Well…far be it from her to waste an opportunity. She turned more fully toward Kuvira, but didn’t move away from the hand lingering by her shoulder. “I don’t like you, Beifong. The only reason you got with Mako was that you put out first, and then I had to listen to you two going at it for the whole semester. If Opal wasn’t my friend I’d want to slam you onto that creaky mess you call a bed and pummel you,” she muttered, her hands shaking.

Kuvira narrowed her eyes and shuffled closer along the couch, made more difficult by the way she kept her legs pressed tightly together. Her eyes weren’t so red anymore, Jinora saw. “If you want to hit me so badly,” she said, her voice at a dangerous, rasping low, “Then do it. Top off my perfect night.”

“You’re crazy…”

Jinora had to back up when Kuvira leaned in closer with a fresh blush on her face. The low hum of the television faded out against Kuvira’s uneven, ragged breaths. “Please? What do you want, more of a reason? You want to hear about how deep Mako sank into me? How thick he was?”

Her hand sang across Kuvira’s cheek without warning, probably leaving more sting in her own palm than Kuvira’s face. Jinora didn’t face any resistance when she shoved Kuvira down onto the couch, laying over her with an arm across her shoulders. Her thoughts were all kinds of red and going down strange paths, brought on by the bright, sharp eyes staring up at her.

“You’re a real bitch, you know that?” Jinora asked, despising the shakiness in her voice. She flinched when Kuvira brought a hand up and threaded it through her hair, never breaking their eye contact as she did. Her fingers stroked along the edge of Jinora’s ear, and a light, questioning pull went with it. Jinora inched along, drawing closer and closer until every one of Kuvira’s short breaths rolled over her lips. “You’re such a bitch…”

“I know.”

There were no sparks, no rushing swell in her chest when they kissed, only warm, chapped lips pressing back at her. Kuvira’s hips rolled up into hers, and despite their positions the tightening fist in her hair made it clear who was leading whom. A pair of strong legs wrapped around her waist, but Jinora pulled back when fire plumed up in her belly. Big green eyes stared back at her, watching, waiting, maybe even begging with the way they flitted down to her lips. It was ridiculous, and she almost wanted to laugh. She didn’t even like Kuvira, she didn’t _want_ her by any stretch. All she really wanted was to pay back some of the hurt she’d been delivered.

Of course, Kuvira seemed receptive to that…

“Get up,” Jinora said as she leaned back and untangled them. Kuvira rolled off the couch and did as she was told, standing idly until Jinora took her by the arm and pulled her into the bedroom. “Do you know how many nights I had to lay here, listening to you wreck your bed? How many times I got myself off to it because there was nothing else I could do?”

She started undoing the top of her blouse, but paused and sat on the foot of her bed. “No. You do this.”

Kuvira knelt down and undid each button, pausing after the last one to run her hand along the smooth tone of Jinora’s stomach, then pulled the blouse off her shoulders and reached around to undo her bra. She sighed in relief when the straps stopped pressing down on her shoulders and gripped at the base of Kuvira’s braid, drawing out a sharp hiss when her hand moved. “And my pants. Was he good, at least?”

“I was walking funny after the first time…”

Jinora tugged harder. “It’s like you want this to hurt.”

Her grin wasn’t easy to see before she dipped down to remove Jinora’s pants. The button popped, and she pushed herself up with her hands so Kuvira could tug them down. She expected her to hook her fingers into the hem of her panties, but instead Kuvira leaned forward and ran her tongue slowly along the fabric. Jinora gasped and held back a shudder. She wasn’t about to let Kuvira win, but she could enjoy herself.

“Every—” She bit her lip when Kuvira found the stiff bud of her clit through her panties, lavishing attention with her tongue, leaving the fabric damp and clinging to her skin— “Every time you lorded him over me, I used it.”

“You were welcome to come over and join us.”

She pulled hard on Kuvira’s hair until she continued, drawing slow circles, grabbing at her thighs, pushing in deeper while the warm arousal mounted deep inside her. Jinora braced herself on the bed with her free hand and leaned back, and after a moment she caught Kuvira’s gaze. Having someone else do this wasn’t the worst thing in the world, even if it was Kuvira.

When her legs started trembling of their own accord, Jinora pushed her panties aside and rolled her hips against Kuvira’s mouth, holding her so close she didn’t know or particularly care how Kuvira managed to breathe through her last frantic rush. Her breath caught in her throat when the warmth burst and spread like so much fire through her legs and chest, and she hunched forward until her stomach hurt as she rode it out. Every breath rattled her down to the core, and she had to bite back a single, euphoric tear as aftershocks kept licking up through her body well after the first cresting wave. Kuvira finally broke away and gasped for air, her mouth and chin a sticky mess as she climbed into Jinora’s lap.

The taste was odd, if not entirely unpleasant, and in her endorphin rush Jinora barely noticed Kuvira kissing her and putting one of her hands down between her legs. Kuvira was as soaked as her, and she slipped two fingers in with surprising ease. A few muscles offered some token resistance, but then relaxed as Kuvira started to rock back and forth, adjusting Jinora’s hand so that the heel of her palm rested against the firm bud of her clit, providing plenty of friction as she moved.

Once her haze started clearing up, Jinora could appreciate how strange the whole situation felt. By all accounts, she was in charge, the one determining whatever pleasure Kuvira got as she clenched tighter and tighter around her fingers, but Kuvira was all too obviously in control. Cogent thought was still a problem, so she decided to enjoy the ride as best she could. Jinora spread her fingers slightly when Kuvira rolled her hips, and an appreciative moan answered her. Maybe the night wasn’t turning out so badly after all.

“Still think I’m a bitch?” Kuvira asked, her voice cracking through every word. A bead of sweat trickled down her neck, and her eyes looked almost glassed over in the low light.

Jinora hooked her fingers forward the slightest bit and changed the angle of her hand, making Kuvira gasp as she bumped into her palm a bit too hard. One hand clamped tight on Jinora’s shoulder. “You’re using me like a f-fucking sybian…”

“And you’re so good at it,” she said through a shaky gasp, losing her rhythm altogether and falling into a frantic, uneven rut instead. Kuvira pushed back with more force than she pushed forward, making her lose ground on Jinora’s lap until she balanced herself out and pressed them closer together. Jinora had no way—or real desire—to get out of Kuvira’s strong grip or away from the warm body against her chest. From so close she could smell the salty tinge of Kuvira’s sweat mixed with her arousal, a sharp, almost tangy scent filling the room around them, and it threatened to put her into another head rush. Someone she despised shouldn’t have smelled so good, shouldn’t have felt so safely firm against her. Jinora reached back and tugged on her braid again, making Kuvira pitch her head back enough to expose the soft skin of her neck. For reasons she couldn’t quite grasp, she sank her teeth into Kuvira’s skin, biting down and suckling lightly.

It went over well. Kuvira cried out, kicking into the bed as best she could. Jinora bit down harder, intent on leaving a mark on the woman who’d caused her so much grief. If only for the one night, she wanted everyone to know that Kuvira belonged to her. She heard a soft moan over the slick slap of skin, and then the coppery taste of blood hit her tongue.

Kuvira’s whole body shook, alternately tensing up and relaxing as Jinora felt a warmth trickling down onto her palm. She finally stopped trembling after a long moment and released Jinora from her grip. They eased back from each other, and Kuvira winced when Jinora took her hand away, suddenly pressing down on nothing. Neither of them had any words at first, and all they could do was catch their breaths and look shamelessly over one another.

“What was all this?” Jinora asked, watching the single drop of blood she’d drawn out drip down to Kuvira’s collarbone.

“I…I don’t know,” Kuvira said. Her shoulders slumped, and all the confidence she’d had when she was driving herself up to a climax with Jinora’s hand was gone, melted away like so much heat and fervor. Then she added in a small, shaking voice, “Should I leave?”

There _would_ be a certain vindictiveness in sending Kuvira away after using each other, but she wasn’t vindictive. Maybe it was basic decency, maybe it was the remains of her orgasm making her feel so good. Whatever it was, Jinora shook her head and nudged Kuvira down onto the bed beside her. “Turn around,” she whispered, and Kuvira did so, settling in with her back to Jinora’s chest. Her whole body was still quivering a bit, and Jinora shuffled them around until she could drape the covers over both of them. “Are you…okay?”

She nodded. “Thank you for not letting me wallow tonight.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“No,” Jinora said, running her hand over the hard band of Kuvira’s abdomen. She had too great a weakness for muscles on women to pretend she didn’t enjoy it. “Just go to sleep before I change my mind.”

⁂

The songbird that made its home outside Jinora’s window woke her the next morning, and she instinctively curled forward, but found herself wrapping around nothing. She blinked a few times and saw she was alone when her eyes adjusted. Kuvira had probably gone home or down to the gym. That was fine. She had no delusions that they were going to strike up a relationship or any such nonsense. Opal would have a conniption, at the very least.

She stretched out and found a rumpled bathrobe strewn over one of her nightstands. With the belt cinched, Jinora rubbed the last of the sleep out of her eyes and trudged into the living area, where she could put a kettle on and check her phone. Plugging it in to relieve the low battery, she scrolled through the messages she’d received in the night. There were a few probing, after-midnight texts from Mako that she ignored, one from her sister asking for help with chemistry homework, and two from Opal asking if she got home without incident. Those she answered, though only judiciously.

“I almost failed chemistry, why isn’t she asking Mom or something—”

There was a knock on her door. She looked around for anything Kuvira might’ve forgotten, but there didn’t seem to be anything. Jinora opened her door to find her neighbor waiting there, holding a small white bag. She’d dressed in her clothes from the night before, but that was all. “I got baozi.”

“What are you doing?” Jinora asked. Nonetheless, she stepped aside so Kuvira could come in and put the bag on her kitchen counter. “We’re not friends, Beifong.”

“It still seemed polite after I—how did you put it—‘used you like a fucking sybian.’”

That brought some color to Jinora’s face. She took her kettle off the heat and poured two cups of tea. A nice breakfast wasn’t the strangest way to spend her morning, all things considered.


	28. Self-Deception (Kunora) (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _A continuation of that recent Jinora and Kuvira one. Where Jinora tries to tell her self that she doesn't like Kuvira even though Kuvira has tried to get her to like her. Ends with the occasional sex scene. Also ends with Jinora finally realizing that she like Kuvira. You can change it around if you want._
> 
> (art by [AATKAW](http://aatkaw.tumblr.com/))

The winters might have been miserable, but upstate springs reminded Jinora why she stubbornly kept from relocating. A bright, warm late April day finally let her wear something sleeveless, and she was determined to take advantage of that, even if it meant just sitting around her apartment in a nice top while she and Opal graded papers. Her windows were open, at least.

“Do you want some tea?” she asked as she got up to put on her kettle. “I need a break before I totally lose faith in the undergrads.”

“Yeah, I’ll have whatever you’re having.” Opal chewed on the end of her pen and slumped against the side of the couch. “Nap break first. The words are falling apart in my head faster than I can read them.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Jinora said, but Opal was already fluffing a pillow for herself.  Oh well. The papers weren’t due for another few days. She took two mugs from her cabinet and looked through the tea she had when someone knocked on her door. Kuvira poked her head in, and Jinora’s breath caught in her throat. “Hey.”

“I think I left my laptop cable over here?”

Jinora reached over to the edge of the counter and slid it toward her. “Great, thanks. Do you think you’ll be doing anything later?” Kuvira asked, laying one hand over hers.

A grin tugged at Jinora’s lips. Even without being friends—they still hadn’t gotten on a first-name basis after four months—her question still carried plenty of opportunities. They didn’t have to use names when their mouths were otherwise occupied, after all. “I’ll probably still be marking papers with…oh. Crap.”

Opal’s fatigue seemed to have worn off, and she sat straight up on the couch so she could gape properly. The whistling kettle at least gave Jinora a reason to turn away, but Kuvira had no such respite from her sister’s gaze. “Hey, Opal.”

“Hi…”

If she was hunting for any more words, she didn’t find them quickly enough for Kuvira to slink back to the door. “So, um, later—”

Jinora nodded. “I’ll text you when we finish.”

No sooner had the door closed than Opal bolted over to the kitchenette, planting herself firmly at the counter and leaning forward with burning expectation. Jinora busied herself with fixing the tea, all the while feeling Opal’s gaze burning a hole in the back of her head. “Do you want any honey with this?”

“No no no, what was that about? When did you two start being friends?”

“We’re not friends,” Jinora said, placing a mug in front of an incredulous Opal. “I think I have a few cookies left if you want them, too.”

Opal squirmed in her seat even as she took a sip. “Come on, tell meee,” she said through a whine.

“What, so you can tell everyone else?”

She had the nerve to look affronted. “I’m a social person!”

“You’re a shameless gossip, that’s what you are. Drink your tea.”

Over the lip of her mug, Jinora caught the brunt of what Opal surely meant to be a withering glare, but instead was little more than an indignant pout. Still, Opal was utterly incapable of not sharing whatever she thought was a juicy bit of gossip, truth or falsehood notwithstanding. It would still probably be better to head her off at the pass, Jinora thought. And if she didn’t give Opal anything, Kuvira would be next up for an interrogation.

“We’re not friends,” she said again, taking a seat on the other side of the counter. Opal waited patiently while Jinora ran one finger around the lip of her mug. “It’s not like that. We just eat or hang out here sometimes.”

“Jinora, what do you think we do?”

“I don’t ride your face, that’s for sure…”

She reached out, as if she could catch the words in the air. It didn’t work, and Opal choked on her tea, sputtering for a moment until she could catch her breath. “Oh, great.”

How Opal’s mouth stretched into a grin so wide, she would never know. “I guess I know why you two have been holed up in your building lately.”

“Let me get a picture, your face right now should go right next to ‘shit-eating grin’ in the dictionary.”

“You could be my sister-in-law!” Opal said, almost squealing and rocking back and forth in her seat.

“We’re not friends!”

“Uh, okay, sure. Whatever you say, honey. I’ll head out and let you two keep not being friends.” She got up and gathered her papers from the coffee table. Jinora groaned as she stopped at the door and looked back at her. “I know you pretty well, right?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I don’t think this is you sleeping around. You don’t do that.”

Opal slipped out, leaving Jinora quite alone with her tea and her thoughts. She and Kuvira _weren’t_ friends. They were busy graduate students, it made sense to split takeout orders when they were in the mood for the same thing. Of course, those decisions arose out of idle conversations they had while relaxing together on Jinora’s couch, or in her bed. Still, it wasn’t a relationship, she told herself. They used each other for pleasure and stress relief, that was all. Why hang themselves up on a label when she was getting such good head? And it would be silly to kick Kuvira out of bed after they were done, she was comfortably warm and loved being the little spoon, giving Jinora carte blanche to grope at her physique.

“I tricked myself into a relationship,” she said as her phone buzzed.

_K. Beifong: Opal really seemed to want to let me know she was leaving. Does she…_   
_J. Sandei: She puzzled it out, and yes, she left. Want to come over? Not ready to get back to these papers yet._

Her answer came in the form of a soft knock on her door a few moments later. Kuvira slipped inside, and they both drifted toward the couch as they usually did. Jinora sat at the side and let Kuvira nestle in with her back to Jinora’s chest, her weight pressing down comfortably on her. She kissed a soft line into the crook of Kuvira’s neck. “Mm, what’s that for?” she asked before reaching for the remote.

“I just…wanted to kiss you, that’s all.”

“Oh.” Kuvira twisted around in Jinora’s arms and kissed her back, slowly, deeply. Her lips were firm but soft, with an understated saltiness she was happy to taste. A sweet, aching twitch snaked up through her belly. By the time they pulled back, they were both out of breath, and a thin little line hung between their lips before breaking. “We should do that more often.”

“Yeah.”

Kuvira wriggled back into position so she could see what she’d put on. “What is this?” Jinora asked.

“Iron Chef, I think.”

“No, you and me. Us.”

She was quiet for several moments, then sat up and faced Jinora. “Fun, I hope.”

“Well, yeah, but I mean…this is a relationship, isn’t it? We spend most nights and weekends together, we text constantly between classes, there’s all the sex…the only thing we don’t do is go out on dates or use each other’s first names.”

Kuvira nodded and pursed her lips. She might not have been Opal’s blood sister, but they pouted in exactly the same way. “So let’s go out.”

“What?”

“Let’s go out and get lunch, Jinora.”

Her name sounded warm and strangely familiar on Kuvira’s tongue. She smiled and leaned forward to kiss her again. “I’d like that, Kuvira.”

⁂

“You picked that place because you knew Mako worked there, didn’t you?”

It was still warm enough to forgo jackets, and they were eager to do so as they walked through downtown. Jinora clung to Kuvira’s arm the whole way, happily squeezing at her bicep and lacing their fingers together. She was slightly shorter, and that along with the position of her arms and the low cut of her top gave Kuvira a view she was taking full advantage of. “I had no idea he was tending bar there,” Kuvira lied. “But you can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy the look on his face.”

“That was priceless, he nearly crashed into the liquor bottles. Where to now?”

Kuvira dipped down and caught her in a deep, hungry kiss, pinning her against the brick wall of a building. The surface scraped at her bare shoulders, but it was a dull ache compared to the sharp twinge that shot up from between her legs. It wasn’t overwarm, and yet a bead of moisture snaked down the side of her neck, slipping over her collarbone and along the swell of her breast. The thumb Kuvira ran over her cheek bumped the arm of her glasses and momentarily blurred the world around them. “I’m thinking your place,” Kuvira said, her voice little more than a low, throaty growl.

“You should just top if you’re going to be like that…”

She took a step back and clasped Jinora’s hand again. “But you’ve taken to it so well.”

Their dynamic notwithstanding, both of them found the energy to pick up their pace and hurry back to their apartment building. Jinora felt Kuvira’s hand slip into her back pocket and squeeze as they stepped into the elevator, only making the mounting, unanswerable ache in her belly worse. She switched things around and shoved Kuvira against the wall instead, standing on her toes so she could nibble at an earlobe that was just demanding a bite. An approving roll of Kuvira’s hips answered her, and Jinora ran the tip of her tongue over the sensitive skin, pushing and prodding until a hand grabbed at her hip and drifted up under her top.

“Do you think I’m going to do this right here?” Jinora asked. She took Kuvira’s hand out from under her top and squeezed it, silently bemoaning the lost touch. “Be a good girl.”

Apart from slightly mussed hair, they were presentable by the time the elevator opened onto the fourth floor, and Kuvira tried to pull Jinora along as best she could. She took a much slower pace, blithely ignoring the tug on her hand, then played around with her keys when they finally got to her door.

“You’re enjoying this,” Kuvira grumbled.

“I am, I really am.”

If Kuvira was so eager to have her take the lead…well. Jinora opened the door and dragged her inside, shoving her over the arm of the couch so she sprawled along the length of it. Kuvira propped herself up on her elbows in time to see Jinora do away with her top. “The view in this apartment is so much better.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Jinora said as she shimmied off her pants. She looked over the couch again, with an eye toward the depth, then shook her head and grabbed Kuvira’s arm. “Come on.”

Pushing Kuvira down onto her bed made a much more satisfying _oomph_ than the couch. Jinora hiked up her simple green shirt and ran one hand over the sharp tone of Kuvira’s stomach before slowly crawling further up the bed. Everywhere Kuvira’s hands explored on her body, flushing warmth sprang up in the wake of her fingertips, sinking in and swirling through her core when Kuvira hesitated at the hem of her panties. “Take them off,” she whispered. “Yours, too.”

Reclining naked beside a better-clothed lover brought some more color to her skin, but she didn’t give herself time to think about it before swinging one leg over Kuvira’s body so she could sit right above her. One hand reached back so she could keep herself steady—and maybe reward Kuvira if she did a good job—and then she eased herself down, shuddering through the jolt that ran up her spine when Kuvira’s tongue hit home. “Oh, how are you so fucking _good_ …”

Her grin was all too clear.

Every quick kiss and lash of her tongue sent another long, needful wave of heat scorching over Jinora’s clit. Her back arched to an ecstatic convex, and with a shaky hand she reached down past the neatly trimmed little patch of hair between Kuvira’s legs. She was already soaked, and Jinora’s fingers easily found purchase around the sore, stiff bud crying out for some stimulation. Kuvira paused, squirming in expectation, but Jinora only tightened her thighs. Service topping was its own fascinating kind of confusion, but she was going to enjoy herself, too. “You’re not done yet, keep going.”

She started slowly, with long, languorous strokes that make Kuvira’s toes curl and her tongue work faster. _Now_ it was overwarm. Little beads of sweat trickled down Jinora’s body as she rolled her hips and fought with the rising heat pluming up all over her body, desperate to stay in control and work her hand at the same time. Her glasses slipped down the bridge of her nose, hazing up her vision as she threw her head back and started to hook her fingers. An appreciative moan answered her, and the jolts that followed made her a twitching, gasping mess. Jinora bit down on her lip and nearly lost all dexterity, but Kuvira matched her motions just fine as all the warm pressure flooded through her and sent a happy, strangled gasp across her lips.

“Oh, right there, fuck…!”

There had been precious few times when she’d tipped right from one orgasm into another, but Kuvira was happy to add to that count. She swiped her tongue once more, hands still gripping tight on Jinora’s thighs, and it was all she could do to keep from collapsing. Every inch of her body tingled and twitched, almost unable to process the pleasure, and she pressed down on nothing as her hand kept working. Kuvira bucked her hips a few moments later to ride it out, and Jinora drew her hand away, fingers soaked with arousal as they settled in beside one another on the bed.

“See, you really have taken to it,” Kuvira said through an unsteady breath. She licked her lips clean while she removed Jinora’s glasses and set them carefully on the nightstand. “Those papers can still wait, right?”

“Yeah. Come here.”

Despite their height difference, Kuvira turned over so Jinora could nestle in against her back and hike one leg up so they were tangled together. Jinora worked her arms around her girlfriend—the word felt strange in her mind, though not unwelcome—so they could shuffle in closer and fall asleep against each other.

“Hey, Beifong. I mean—Kuvira.”

“Mmn?”

She squeezed a little tighter and softly kissed the crook of Kuvira’s neck. “Nothing.”


	29. Pemlinzin (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Commissioned work. Pemlinzin, NSFW

Lin was mad.

_Mad_ might not have even been a strong enough description, she thought as she went through her fourth set on her dip bar. Little beads of sweat ran down the back of her neck and under her weight vest, but she was too busy grinding her teeth and muttering to herself to notice. “Oh, stay here while they do your renovations, we’ve got the space,” she said under her breath in a mocking imitation of her mother. “Stay here, don’t mind my daughter that you dumped, she always scowls like that.”

It was hardly the most accurate rendition, but she didn’t care. Lin’s arms burned as she finished her set and planted her feet back down on the floor, getting a fresh sense of her surroundings as she did. She grimaced, but made a conscious effort not to look back at the doorway as she went to get some water. No reason to antagonize things in her own home. She was thirty-nine, she didn’t need teenage schoolyard bullshit…or a ding on her record for a bad arrest.

“Lin?”

She sighed. No such luck, it seemed. Forty-something rooms in the house and she wandered into Lin’s…well. If she couldn’t ignore her mousy, acolyte-shaped problem, then she could at least bury it under icy civility. Lin took a few more weights from the table and put them into the pockets on the sides of her vest as she turned around. “Pema.”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt if you were in the middle of something,” Pema said, but nonetheless took a few steps past the doorway. _You managed anyway_ , Lin thought. “I can wait.”

“Seat’s over there.”

Lin went back to her dip bar, squared her shoulders, and picked her feet up off the floor. It was slightly disorienting, losing the extra bit of awareness she gained from being rooted. Rather than that, she had the pleasure of dealing with Pema’s gaze on her as she went through her last set, boring into the nape of her neck. Her grip tightened on the bars. She didn’t like a crowd when she exercised, a single spectator even less so.

Her thighs went taut with the effort of keeping her feet up with the weights around her ankles, and she could feel the sweat wicking uncomfortably into her undershirt. The burn she was feeling wasn’t the satisfying ache she usually got from a workout, but a weariness coming along with anticipation. Whatever Pema wanted, Lin doubted it was something she would look back on fondly.

Twenty-five dips, her last set of the day. Lin eased down again and allowed herself a moment of resting, holding onto the bars, before going over for some water. Pema was in one of the chairs near the door, fussing with her hands in her lap, waiting patiently. She didn’t say anything while Lin pulled off her vest and ankle weights, though when she turned back Pema was breathing a fair bit heavier with no exercise to show for it.

“Did you need directions back to your room?” Lin asked as she leaned back against her desk and crossed her arms. She wasn’t going to have anything mistaken for friendliness, and she wanted to leave as quickly as she could for a shower and a fresh change of clothes. “I know it’s a big house.”

“No, I wanted to talk to you.” Pema finally stopped fidgeting with her hands and shoved them under her thighs. “I don’t think we’ve ever really had a chance to just sit down and, you know, talk.”

Lin shrugged. “I’m a cop, you’re a…nun or acolyte or whatever your actual title is. Not much in common for us to talk about, unless you’re dying to hear what we fished out of the harbor the other day,” she said.

Pema shook her head politely. “I think that should stay a happy mystery…but we do have one thing in common.”

Her nails started digging into her arms. “Unless you’re going to say _green eyes_ , you really don’t want to finish that thought. I was going to the gym to practice my cable work, so if there’s nothing else…”

“I only wanted to talk,” Pema said, with a bit of backbone finally showing through her voice as she stood up. Lin didn’t respond beyond a barely-audible scoff as she went over to the cable harness hanging on the wall of her room. “We don’t need all this bad blood hanging between us.”

“Guess it’s easy to say that from your position. The gracious winner.” Lin started to pull the straps loose on the harness, then paused and turned back. “No bad blood here, Pema. I don’t blame you. For anything. You love who you love.”

She gave up on the harness and practicing her cable work when something started to sting between her eyes. Rather than let it out, Lin pinched the bridge of her nose and lowered her voice to a surly growl. Pema’s hands had escaped from under her thighs, and one wandered up to the loose lock of black hair over her left temple. “I don’t even blame Tenzin. Well, I used to, but that was spiking my blood pressure, so I try not to anymore. I mean…look at me and look at you.”

“Lin.”

“I thought the least I could do was keep my distance and it would stop stinging eventually, but every time I go by the harbor and look out into the bay, it all reopens. And now you’re here.”

“Lin—”

“Don’t know why the universe insists on doing this to me. Must’ve been bad in a past life.”

“Lin, would you shut up for a minute and let me speak?”

She took half a step back at the sudden outburst. Pema’s face was screwed up almost adorably in frustration, and Lin smirked when a concerned Tenzin appeared in the doorway. For all the grief she had given him about the beard when they were together, Lin had to admit that it was coming in well, even if it was bristling nervously. “Oh dear.”

“Relax, Tenzin, no one’s got claws out. Your wife had something to say to me.”

Pema looked back at her husband for a long moment as he walked up beside her, trading a glance Lin couldn’t see, and something twinged uncomfortably in her chest. It wasn’t jealousy, not quite. Wistfulness? She had no idea, neither feeling had ever been of any use to her. All she wanted was to be left alone, not humor whatever game they were playing. Finally Pema turned to her and took a few steps forward with a deep, shuddering breath. “Like I said, we never had the chance to talk. About the three of us.”

“It’s over and done with. Relationships end. Why are you trying to twist the knife?” Lin asked. For an Air Nomad, she seemed to have quite the cruel streak.

“I never wanted your relationship to end,” Pema said as she started picking at her sleeve, looking anywhere to keep from making eye contact. Lin arched an eyebrow. Whatever leaps of logic were going on in Pema’s brain to make that possible, Lin wasn’t sure. Maybe being on the mainland for so long had addled her brain.

“So you wanted to be a mistress? I know I said there wasn’t any bad blood here, but you might be changing my mind.”

“No, I thought maybe the three of us could…work something out,” she said. Tenzin put a hand on her shoulder, and she reached up to weave their fingers together. “But I didn’t explain that properly to Tenzin. And you never came back to the island after you stormed off, so I never got to say anything to you.”

Lin found herself rooted in place, and for once not of her own accord. Was Tenzin’s sweet, waifish little wife actually suggesting what Lin thought? “Work something out,” she repeated slowly. Her heart was thrumming painfully in her chest, and her mouth went dry. “What, exactly?”

A blush spread over Pema’s face as she took a few more steps forward, until they were at arm’s length. “You and Tenzin, Tenzin and me, me and you,” she said, and ran her hand up Lin’s arm until it settled just below her shoulder and squeezed. Warm, Lin thought. “Unless…you don’t like women that way?”

“Men, women, never made much difference to me.” Her throat was scratching, it was so dry.

Pema edged forward until they really couldn’t get any closer, pressing up against one another. Lin bit down on her tongue when she hooked two fingers into her waistband and looked past her, at Tenzin. His blush, on the other hand, confined itself to his neck and forehead. “And you’re on board with this?” Lin asked. He nodded with a nervous, lopsided smile. “Yeah, of course you are. Why wouldn’t you be?”

“This was Pema’s idea, all I did was the enthusiastic nodding.”

“Is that so…”

She ran one finger up the length of Pema’s delicate throat until it was pushing into the soft spot under her chin and nudged with the slightest bit of pressure. Her head pitched obediently upward until Lin could see the way she was chewing her lip and the way she stopped and stood on her toes to meet Lin when she leaned down. A little overenthusiastic, in Lin’s opinion, but she wasn’t a _bad_ kisser by any stretch of the imagination. The hand on her arm tightened, and Lin grabbed at Pema’s side through her soft acolyte’s robe. She could lie to herself, pretend she was only considering their proposition, but the slowly coiling pressure between her legs had decided well enough already. There were worse ways to spend her weekend…why not, if they were up for it?

Pema gasped when Lin reached down for her legs and picked her right up, wrapping her arms around Lin’s broader shoulders and laying a flurry of kisses on her lips. It was only two short steps to her bed and a quick turn before Lin let gravity take its course, leaving Pema underneath her, panting as if she had just run through the house. Her mouth was barely curved into a smile, and she was so plainly hungry that Lin shivered. “Tenzin?” Lin asked.

There were a few quick steps, and then a tentative hand on the middle of her back. Lin rocked her hips from side to side, but only gave him a half-lidded glance as he eased down on the bed beside them.

Lin took Pema’s hands and held them farther up on the bed, leaving Lin free to ease the dark red robes off with her other hand. Tenzin was letting them play uninterrupted, just watching, enjoying the show for the moment. And he _was_ enjoying it, if the heavy outline in his pants was any indication. Pema’s robe came free without resistance, and something twinged pleasantly in Lin’s belly at the sight of her naked body, at the feel of her soft side up and the swell of her breast, trembling and crying out for more with the merest touch. Lin circled her thumb around one stiff pink nipple, drawing closer and closer before easing back, teasing out all kinds of moans from deep in Pema’s chest.

“Can I…can I do something for you?” Pema asked even as she pressed her body against Lin’s hand, desperate for more. There was plenty still left to explore, but it seemed to be a night for trying new things. Lin nodded and rolled off of her so Pema could hop up from the bed, holding her robe in place to keep it from falling.

Which was exactly what she wanted it to do. Slowly, agonizingly slowly and facing away from them, Pema eased her robe off her shoulders, letting the collar rumple over the delicate arch of her back. It was Lin’s turn to look hungry, and the twinge between her legs became an insistent, demanding ache when the robe dropped down over the flare of Pema’s hips. She looked shyly over her shoulder at Lin, and only Lin, angling herself to show off the slightest curve of her rear, before her robe dropped entirely.

“Well, fuck…”

Everything else Lin wanted to say caught in her throat when Pema turned around, her half-grin breaking out more fully across her lips when she saw the way Lin was looking at her. The pressure in her body coiled up, tightening like a spring, and Lin started when Pema climbed back onto the bed and grabbed the bottom of her shirt. It slid over Lin’s head without resistance, and Pema went back at her with renewed vigor, running her hands greedily over the hard plane of Lin’s stomach, the swells of her breasts and her shoulders. Pema’s kisses moved down inch by inch, from her lips, to the crook of her neck, to her stomach, all the while digging her fingers into Lin’s waistband and tugging. Every now and then her gaze would flit over to her husband and they would share a brief smile before Pema turned back to Lin with another tug at her pants. Points for directness, Lin thought…she propped herself up on her elbows and let Pema finish getting her undressed.

“You’re so beautiful,” Pema murmured before she laid a kiss on the inside of Lin’s thigh. She seemed committed to a slow, thorough tease, trailing up one leg, getting so maddeningly close that every brush of her lips burned like fire, and then drifting down the other with deep, suckling kisses. Watching her and the little smirk she wore every time she skipped from one leg to the other was going to drive her crazy, and Lin turned to Tenzin, whose whole face had gone a brilliant red.

All she had to do was latch one finger into the collar of his robe and Tenzin was shifting closer to her, laying his hand over the scars on her cheek. Kissing Pema was soft and sweet and Lin was intent on doing plenty more of it, but Tenzin had six years of memories behind every kiss, six wonderful years that made her chest thrum to think about.

“Shirt, robe, whatever this is, take it off,” Lin said when she pulled away. He scrambled to do so, and Lin threaded one hand through Pema’s hair to get her attention. Glassy green eyes looked up at her, half-lost in pleasure, still nipping at her thigh. “And you…that’s enough love bites, don’t you think?”

Both of them descended on her at once, and Lin actually heard herself whimper. Pema’s tongue flew in quick streaks over her clit, and Tenzin’s kisses were forceful, needful, trying to make up for years of absence. Her hold on Pema’s hair relaxed, looser but still capable of giving direction if need be. She seemed fine on her own, though, licking and suckling just as enthusiastically as she could. Tenzin was slightly more gentle with her as they fell back into their old roles, nibbling on her lower lip and letting her push back against him. His hand trailed down from her cheek and cupped her breast, rolling one small nipple between his thumb and first finger in response to Lin’s low, happy moans. She was sure she was going to wake up any minute, but there was more than enough to enjoy until then.

Her hips were rolling along with every slight change in direction from Pema’s tongue, chasing the little jolts of pleasure, when the coiling tightness in her belly simply snapped. Long, sweet tendrils licked their way out from her core, her toes curled, and her grip on the sheets under her tightened almost painfully. It had been a long time since she’d spent the night with anyone, but she hadn’t lost a step. Lin arched her back as all the metal in the room warped, rippling like her own body, overtaxed even from the softer strokes of Pema’s tongue as she eagerly caught all of the arousal she had coaxed out.

“Fucking…fuck,” Lin said on a shaking breath, riding too high on her first real orgasm in months for any cogency. Pema eased farther up on the bed, her chin shining with wetness in the light, and all Lin could do was stroke her hair and mumble out an unsteady “Thank you.”

Pema smiled and wiped her lips clean before planting one light, wet kiss on Lin’s cheek. “It was my pleasure, I promise,” she said, and her hand on Lin’s thigh made all the metal around them tremble again.

All that metal…

“Idea.” That was all Lin got out before sliding out from between the two of them and getting to her feet. She almost stumbled between her bed and the wall, where her cable harness was still hanging. The warm, slight stickiness on her legs wasn’t familiar, but it wasn’t unpleasant either, and she kept shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she pulled the cables free of their spools. Lin glanced back at them over her shoulder, only to meet questioning but expectant glances. “Pants. Off.”

Pema immediately set about stripping her husband while Lin snickered under her breath. She wouldn’t need a great deal of cable, and it was a simple matter to bend off a section just long enough for her needs and run her hands along it to warm it up a bit. All the stiffness went out of it, although she couldn’t say the same for Tenzin when she turned around and saw that Pema had tossed his pants into the corner of the room. It was easier to pick out all the scents that were uniquely his that way, the slight tinge of sweat, the very obvious desire. Pema had one hand on his cock, stroking up and down the length of his shaft, but both of them were watching Lin, curious, a little apprehensive, but most importantly eager.

“Sit seiza, calves under thighs,” Lin said, and Tenzin did so, sitting up and making himself nice and compact. A light sheen of sweat covered his chest, and a short, sharp quiver worked its way up through her belly. He could be so cute sometimes, when he followed directions. “Now your hands, right behind your back. Comfortable?”

He nodded, and Lin felt a smirk on her lips. “Good.”

Tenzin barely breathed as she wound the cable carefully around his wrists and ankles, not painfully tight but enough to make getting free a difficult prospect. Lin traced her fingers along the arrows running down his arms, drawing out a long shudder, and then shifted herself about until she was in his lap, pressing his shaft between her stomach and his. Pema had relaxed onto her side next to them, watching them rock against one another while her fingers wandered across her body. Lin had wanted to at least appear in control, to take what she wanted while they were still offering, but there were too many pleasant memories drifting back to keep the smile off her face.

“Remember this?” Lin asked. Her hands tightened on his shoulders to keep her steady as she lifted herself up slightly, enough to leave herself poised over his cock. Tenzin nodded and tried to roll his hips, but Lin tightened her legs around his to keep him still. She lowered herself slowly along the underside of his shaft, enough to get her own stimulation without giving him the penetration he wanted. “Ah, ah…you used to love it when I’d tie you up and string you along, why rush? We’ve got all night.”

“Lin.” His voice was tight, strained, absent its usual quiet confidence. Pema bit her lip and gave up on her pretense, letting her hand drift down between her legs while she watched them. “Lin, please…”

“Beg all you want.”

She pushed herself up and then down again, watching the faces he made as she teased him. First there was a grimace when his patience started to wear down, then he gritted his teeth and tried to rock his hips more aggressively, all the while straining against her cuffs, and after only a few minutes he was nice and oversensitized, twitching and gasping with each circuit Lin made.

“Still angling for more?” Lin asked, and fixed herself in place, nudging her hips back and forth along the head of his cock. Every twitch sent a jolt up through her, and she was nearly back on the edge herself, holding off for the sake of torturing him a little longer.

“Yes…”

“Tell me.” She slid one hand from his shoulder to his neck, running her thumb along the front of his throat. The little bump there trembled as he swallowed. “Tell me what you want.”

“You,” Tenzin said, almost fighting through a moan to answer her, nearly whispering across her collarbone. Pale gray eyes looked up at her, half-maddened with need.

Lin shifted a bit, leaving him pressed up against her entrance, so close but still out of his reach. “Speak up.” _Loud enough for your wife to hear._

“I want you—” Lin edged down on him, enough to push him ever so slightly into place, and Tenzin pulled against his restraints— “I _need_ you, Lin…”

Her heart skipped a few beats at that, and she kissed him roughly as she sank down the length of his cock. Lin’s head spun at the fullness, at the slight, sweet sting that came along with the way her body relaxed to accommodate him. Oh, she’d missed that…tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and her tongue flitted over Tenzin’s lips. Lin glanced over when his mouth parted, and Pema was still chewing on her lip, rocking back and forth on her hand as they began moving.

It was such an easy habit to fall back into, going at each other as quickly as they could whenever she would sneak over to the island on her breaks, but Lin forced herself to pull back. She’d been alone for two years, a few more minutes wouldn’t make a difference.

And it wouldn’t kill her to focus solely on her pleasure, either.

Lin shifted up and down, angling her body so that the tip of Tenzin’s cock rubbed against a spot on her front walls that made her see stars. She finally let go of his shoulders when she was confident in her balance and raked her nails across his back, her old canvas, weaving bright red lines over his skin.

Heat flared and coiled in her belly when he broke their kiss to bite at her neck, and his arms strained with effort to work himself free from his restraints. Lin couldn’t blame him, her strokes were short and meant solely for her enjoyment, but she still bent the cable a bit more snugly around his wrists. “Lin, please,” he started to say, but she wasn’t listening. All she could do was answer the mounting pressure with an even faster pace, trying desperately to fling herself over the edge before her legs began to cramp—

It was a different kind of beast than having Pema’s tongue on her, trembling heat more than pure pleasure, and Lin cried out as she eased herself down on her old lover before her legs could give out. His hips were still rocking, trying to join her, but she needed at least a few minutes. Lin gave his cheek a small pat and looked at Tenzin with glassy eyes. “Good boy,” she said, her voice scratching in her throat. Lin had to rest her head on his shoulder for a moment, where she could see Pema two fingers deep in herself, watching them with barely-contained lust. She smiled when Lin caught her gaze. “You want a turn?”

Tenzin grimaced when Lin slid off him, but she wasn’t any happier for the loss of fullness, either. It gnawed at her, leaving a stinging ache that would take a few minutes to subside, and Pema shifted closer to take her place. Lin kissed her first, hard, grabbing her hips without preamble and squeezing. Pema shivered and whimpered under her touch, but Lin let her go and nudged her toward her husband. “Go—go on,” Lin said, and ran two fingers down the middle of her back. “Have fun.”

She expected that Pema would be softer than her, but not to the extent that Lin saw. Pema kissed at Tenzin’s shoulders and chest, lightly staking her claim, and gradually went lower, to the firm tone of his stomach, the tops of his thighs, and the tip of his cock, still glistening with Lin. His shaft disappeared past her lips twice as Pema grabbed and squeezed at his thighs. The little gasps she made sent a pleasant shudder through Lin, and she found her hands drifting down along her body as Pema worked herself into her husband’s lap. It seemed like such a waste to Lin to not tease him a bit, tied up as he was, but Pema quickly sank down on Tenzin and rocked along with his rhythm in long, spirited strokes.

“Fuck,” Lin said under her breath. There was precious little else she could say as she watched her old lover thrust into his wife, watched her face twist up in ecstasy as she took him to the hilt. Such a pretty couple.

“Honey?” Pema asked. Tenzin nodded desperately in return, bucking his hips as much as he could before he finally pushed into her and stayed there, nipping at her shoulder all the while. “Ah…!”

She rolled her hips from side to side and looked back at Lin, who finally unbound the cables around Tenzin’s wrists and ankles. “Don’t move too quickly, you’ll get pins and needles in your hands,” Lin said. “How’d that feel?”

Tenzin slowly shifted his arms forward and wrapped them around Pema, rubbing his wrists as he held her. “Very nostalgic.”

Pema held a hand out toward Lin as she slipped off Tenzin and he adjusted himself to a more comfortable sitting position. “Come here, Lin. You don’t have to sit over there by your lonesome. I think he’ll need a few minutes anyway.”

“I’m doing the best I can,” Tenzin said as Lin started shuffling over.

Pema kissed his cheek. “No one’s criticizing, believe me.”

Both of them wrapped Lin in an embrace as soon as she was in arm’s reach, holding her close as if she was a part of their relationship from the beginning. And she had been, in a roundabout sort of way. Pema nestled her cheek into the crook of Lin’s neck, and Tenzin lightly kissed her cheek. Her face burned with blush, and a part of her that wasn’t as small as she wished wanted to imagine more such nights, a tangle of bodies devoted to just enjoying each other. She smiled and returned their embrace.

“I think we loosened her up a bit,” Pema said, and grabbed playfully at Lin’s side.

“Don’t push your luck. Watching that was…amazing, but don’t push your luck.” Lin brushed at Pema’s hair and let her hand drag down along the swell of one small breast. “Didn’t get to return the favor, you know. Up for it?”

“Well, yes, but—” Pema raised an eyebrow— “you wouldn’t rather I run to the bathroom first?”

Lin shrugged and let her hand stop over Pema’s abdomen, pressing at the little bit of softness there. “I know what Tenzin tastes like, don’t worry about me.”

She shifted back to let Pema back from her husband, who winced from the flash of overstimulation when they brushed together. If memory served, and it usually did for Lin, he wouldn’t need much coaxing back to usefulness. Lin made sure he had a good view before she descended on his wife, kissing down along the light sheen of sweat Pema had worked up. The smell of her arousal sent a short flutter through Lin, and suddenly she wasn’t in the mood for any more teasing.

Pema was sweet and light, a sharp contrast to Tenzin’s more bitter taste, and there was no shortage of either. Lin pressed a kiss to her clit, prominently stiff and reddened with excitement, and Pema moaned from deep in her chest. Her legs tightened around Lin’s shoulders. _This is fucked, this is so fucked_ , Lin thought, though she found she didn’t care all that much.

Her tongue glided over Pema’s clit, first in simple strokes, then in more complex shapes, challenging herself to spell out their names. Occasionally Lin dipped her tongue farther down for a taste of their arousal until Pema threaded her fingers into Lin’s hair and tried to keep her in place. She looked up and saw that Pema’s face was entirely red with blush, and her lips had marks in them from being bitten so much. “Lin,” she said, almost panting out her name, lacing it with reverence. “Can I—can I be on top?”

She’d pegged Pema as submissive through and through, but it wasn’t something she was opposed to in any way. Lin pulled back, giving her tongue a moment’s rest as she turned over and saw that she had been right about Tenzin, almost ready to have one of them jump on him again. For all the spiritual trappings, he could be so simple sometimes…Lin smirked. Pema swung one leg over Lin’s head and gently brought herself down, shuddering when Lin grabbed her hips and pulled her the rest of the way. It was a lovely view, Pema perched on top of her while she beckoned her husband over. Lin flattened her tongue and ran it up to Pema’s clit, drawing out another shudder that made her lean on Tenzin for support.

“Oh, Lin…”

Lin’s fingers tightened on Pema’s thighs as she refocused her attentions, ever so lightly lashing on Pema’s clit while she watched the scene unfolding just above her. She’d never been particularly fond of taking Tenzin’s cock in her mouth, and usually refrained from doing so unless he asked—and he’d never been shy about asking—but Pema seemed happy to indulge him. She looked to be better at it, too, if the small bulge in the middle of her throat whenever her lips hit the base of his shaft was any indication. Nice to watch, at least. Lin pushed her tongue upward slightly, only to be rewarded with a rush of sweetness and bitterness across her lips and chin. Pema bucked her hips forward, legs pressing on the sides of Lin’s head. Her whole body trembled, quivering around both of them, and Lin gently swirled the tip of her tongue around her clit while she rode it out. Pema drew her head back to breathe freely, and Lin had to wonder just how flexible her mouth was. She shrugged, and her shoulders pressed against the backs of Pema’s thighs. Not her problem anymore.

One leg went swinging over Lin’s head, giving her a moment to relax and get her bearings. Pema was barely sitting up, still wracked with aftershocks, and had one hand around Tenzin’s leg, trying weakly to draw him closer. Her soft stretch of tummy was rising and falling slowly along with her chest, and once Lin sat up she nestled in against her with her back to Lin’s torso.

“Really? More?” Lin asked, and Pema nodded absently. Her hair was tousled, spilling all across her shoulders, and her hand went tracing along Lin’s thigh in large, looping circles. “The resilience of youth…don’t keep your wife waiting, Tenzin.”

Both of them were on Pema in a moment, nipping at her throat, cupping her breasts, letting her rock herself between their bodies as Tenzin sank into her again. Lin caught the full force of her shudder, a short sharp reflex that worked through her as she wrapped her legs around Tenzin’s waist. “Ah…”

Lin started a little when Tenzin moved from kissing Pema’s cheek to her own collarbone, but it was hardly the time for getting shy. She leaned forward and kissed him as he pressed into his wife, until the rhythm and flow of energy between them made it hard to tell where one of them ended and the others began. It was easy to sink into the point where there wasn’t a discrete Lin, or Pema, or Tenzin. Easy, intoxicating, and so appealing that she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to climb back out of what they had fallen into. Pema gasped and shuddered with Tenzin’s thrusts, passing along every sensation to Lin as they rocked in tandem. “I love you, I love you both so much,” Pema gasped out, barely in control of her voice in between her whimpers and moans. “I’ve wanted this for so long…”

It was only a heat of the moment thing, Lin knew, an excited little utterance not to be taken seriously, but it still sent a bloom of warmth coursing through her chest. She sank her teeth into the crook of Pema’s shoulder and eked another happy moan out of the mousy little acolyte. Tenzin must have liked it too, because his rhythm lost its grace, falling first into franticness and then finally little more than a furious rut against his wife. He grabbed them both around the waist until they were all pressed together, just a tangle, a wonderful mess of pleasure none of them wanted to pick themselves up out of.

Robust as he was, Tenzin had his limit, and Lin knew he had hit it when all he could do was hold himself up when they all finally fell still. It seemed almost wrong, the quiet, after the frenetic bout their evening had become. Reality threatened to intercede, but Lin batted it away and pulled them all down onto the bed.

Pema slipped over to the bathroom on shaking legs, leaving Lin with her old flame. She gently touched at one of his wrists, checking to make sure she hadn’t left any permanent indents, then chanced to shift closer to him. They were very obviously done, and Lin didn’t know how long the good mood was going to last, but she was going to hold onto it as best she could. She dipped down to quickly kiss the middle of his chest, and one arm wrapped around her, warm and protective. “The beard’s not so bad,” Lin said, batting at it with one finger.

“Glad you finally came around on it.”

The bed shifted slightly as Pema closed in on Lin’s other side. Suddenly she was the one sandwiched in the middle, at the mercy of the soft press of their bodies. “Do you mind some company for the night?” Pema asked. Her breath was barely a whisper on the nape of Lin’s neck, slight and cool and quiet. “Or should we go back to our room?”

Lin’s answer was to shuffle the sheets out from under them so she could pull them on top. She eased in against Tenzin, nudged Pema closer, and sighed as she felt their hands intertwine on top of her hip.

“No, this—this is fine.”


	30. Morning People vs. Sane People (Suko) (NSFW)

Mako was awake before the sunrise, curled up in bed as a bar of light from the window crept up along the sheets and stretched over his face. He yawned and bit down playfully on the crook of Su’s shoulder, drawing out a sleepy moan before he shifted to the edge of the bed and sat up, shivering until he picked up and slipped on his boxers. The rest of their clothes were strewn about the floor, and Mako nudged them out of the way before anyone could trip on them.

“Ach, the sun,” Su said through a hiss when she rolled toward the window. The sheets shot up over her face and one hand moved about under the fabric, searching. “Where’d you go? You were my buffer.”

The covers shuffled as Mako rolled out a soft mat at the foot of the bed. He shook the end of the sheets before laying down and getting himself situated, still blinking sleep out of his eyes. She’d kept him up half the night, it wasn’t his fault that she was paying for it now. “It’s morning, it’s time to get up.”

“Ugh.”

A twinge radiated across his stomach as he started his sit-ups, ignoring the way the bed jostled above him. He wasn’t going to drag her out, but neither was he going to while away the morning spooning. There would be plenty of time for that later.

He was nearly through his set when a mess of graying black hair and two bleary green eyes poked out from under the sheets, trying to get a fix on what he was doing. “Come back to bed, it’s warm and soft…”

Mako got to the end of his set and brushed some hair from in front of Su’s eyes. He pushed one hand under the covers and cupped the side of her face, easing his thumb along the defined crest of her cheekbone. Another twinge raced through his belly, solidly downward this time. She made a surprisingly compelling case, Mako thought. Su shifted slightly and kissed his palm, looking down at him with half-lidded eyes. “Always pegged you as a morning person,” he said.

Su grumbled and snapped at his hand as he started his next set, but didn’t seem to feel the need to look away. “When our mother would drop Lin and me at our grandparents’ estate, there was this wretched cock that would start crowing with the first hint of daylight like its life depended on it,” she said, her voice muffled by the sheets she was speaking into. “I wanted to wring its neck.”

“Is there some wringing you’re getting at?” Mako asked, unable to contain his smirk. “Not sure I can make it crow, but you’re welcome to work out any frustration you might have. Just get out of bed.”

Her answer to that was to disappear under the sheets again, twist in that impossibly flexile dancer’s way of hers, and reappear at the other end of the bed, sitting up and draping her arms lazily over all the pillows pushed up against the headboard. The edge of the sheets clung just below her shoulders, with gravity holding them cruelly up. Her hair was even more tousled from shifting about, thin little strands falling around her face, and her eyes narrowed as she curled one finger in a silent beckon.

“You’re not getting out of bed, are you?” Mako asked. Her lips, still slightly red from their evening, flattened into the merest smile, and in a matter of moments he found his boxers woefully unaccommodating.

“Are you going to do something about it?”

“I’ve got a few ideas…”

Mako pulled up the sheets at the foot of the bed and slipped underneath, kicking his boxers away as he ran his hands up Su’s bare legs. If she was going to take her time, then he could, too.

Not that he ever would have rushed.

He started at her ankles, kissing around the arch on one and circling the other with his thumb before starting upward. Her calves were firmer, toned from dancing along with the rest of her, and she stifled a moan as he kneaded the tissue there, pulling her legs up to coax him on.

Mako gave in and shifted up again to her thighs, thick and finely muscled from high-flying performances on silk rope. He’d seen what she could _really_ do with her silks, things that would get her arrested if she tried them on a stage with an audience. One of her hands threaded through his hair as he kissed along the supple skin of her legs, tugging him closer, but it wouldn’t do to drink down such a fine wine so quickly. Su rolled her hips without a shred of patience, pulling more insistently the longer he went on lavishing attention on her legs. “Now look who’s bursting with energy,” he said in between long kisses to the insides of her thighs.

“You talk too much…can’t you think of anything better to do with your mouth?”

So impatient. Mako nipped lightly at her skin all the way up to her hips, to the small, neatly-trimmed strip of steel-gray hair between her legs, spreading happily to accommodate him. There was the slight smell of sweat mingled with her arousal—a consequence of sleeping under thick sheets and next to a firebender—and Mako’s head swam with need as he dipped down and ran the tip of his tongue over her the soft bud of her clit. She had a sweet taste, rich in its simplicity, as much like honey as he had ever tasted. Her hand in his hair tightened almost painfully, spurring him on, and Mako was happy to oblige. He rolled his head in time with her hips, rocking in counter to her movements, flattening his tongue to drive their tempo down and firming it to draw her up again. “Good boy, Mako…”

He drew two fingers along her twitching thigh, and the metal frame of the bed twisted when he drew his tongue away in favor of his fingers, drawing slow circles around her clit. Su moaned from deep in her chest, and with what light that got through the sheets Mako saw her pinching one nipple with her free hand, grabbing at ever more sensation. He trailed his fingers down, drawing the tips along the edges of her sex and closing in to tease her soft, slick inner folds. Su’s hips rolled against him, searching desperately for more contact, until Mako pressed his fingers together and eased them forward with care, lashing his tongue across her clit as he did.

Su nearly choked on her gasp as he slipped into her, pressing down on his fingers from all sides even as the rest of her twitched and her legs wrapped around his head. Droplets of slick heat spilled onto his palm, redoubled when he curled his fingers upward ever so slightly. She was going to pull his hair out with the way she was gripping at his head, Mako thought. His rhythm picked up, savoring her taste and her scent as he wrote their names with the tip of his tongue and played his fingers across her burning inner walls, coaxing her along.

Her back arched, drawing her whole body tense with short breaths and the jerking twinge of wiry muscle all around him. Mako slowed his pace for a moment, smiling at the needful whine it earned him, then picked up once more, taking her over the edge with a scream into one of the pillows and a sharp squeeze around his head from her legs. He planted one more light kiss on her sorely sensitized clit before taking his fingers away to get a proper taste of her arousal. The arch in her back fell out with his gentler ministrations, and her legs eventually let him out of their vice grip. Mako closed his eyes, working slowly, methodically, enjoying the fruits of his labor. His tongue and jaw ached slightly from exertion, but he couldn’t be bothered to care about it when weighed against the high, half-delirious laughter from farther up the bed. “Sounds like you can do a little crowing of your own—”

She whacked him. “Weekend mornings are for sleeping in and lazy sex, not your bad passes at humor.”

“Is that so?”

Mako wiped his lips dry and resumed his slow crawl up the bed, kissing along the slight softness of her tummy and up to the swells of her breasts, wrapping one arm around her waist as he did. When he was nibbling at her collarbone, one of her hands reached down to grab him, stroking up and down the length of his shaft and dragging the head of his cock along her sex, holding him back and daring him to press ahead all at once. Mako ran his free hand into Su’s hair, curling silver strands around his fingers as he rolled his hips until they were lined up with hers.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said in between deep, suckling kisses on the delicate skin of her neck.

Su wrapped her legs around him again and nudged him forward, her mouth cracking into a broad grin as he pushed into her. Wet, welcoming heat surrounded him, and the hard spike of pleasure racing through his body almost cost him his composure. Su kissed his forehead, her lips blazing on his skin. “Such a flatterer.”

Nails raked over his back, leaving small stinging lines in their wake as Su tightened her legs. She bit at his lower lip while her hips rocked, slowly at first. Enough to taunt him. Mako rolled back slightly, growling before he snapped forward and pushed them both further into the sheets. He could taste the sweat on her, the slight saltiness of her lips that scorched through his body and spurred his pace.

“Finally some use for that firebender stamina,” Su mumbled, clutching at every inch of him she could reach. Her back arched under his touch, pressing into his body, holding on for dear life as she moved in counter to his rhythm. One hand on his shoulder tightened when he bit at her lip in turn, digging into his skin. “Much— _ah_! Much better than jumping out of bed, mm?”

“Now who talks too much…”

A rivulet of sweat ran down behind his ear, and it was all he could do to pull one hand free to throw off the sheets still on them. The air lapped at his skin and only made plain the sharp divide between the coolness above and the warmth below, catching him firmly in the middle. Mako rolled back, wincing along with Su as they parted, only to grasp her at the hip and turn her onto her stomach. She backed up against him with another half-lidded look over her shoulder, rocking from side to side until he dove back in, curling her toes and pushing to meet him. All at once they were a fitful tangle of bodies again, bucking against one another, drawing pleasure and giving it in turn.

The rising pressure at the base of his cock demanded some kind of answer, but Mako only snaked one hand under Su’s leg between his thrusts, tracing quick circles around her clit and drawing out shuddering moans and sighs. What he could see of her smile was wonderfully broad, a reflex of pleasure teetering on ecstasy. For all her talk, she fell apart so easily, he thought…her hands twisted into the sheets when he bit hard at the crook of her shoulder, her body tightened around him, and he had no way of holding out against it.

Mako couldn’t stop a few tremors from wracking him as he buried himself up to the hilt once more, wrapped in warmth, fighting to keep his legs from giving out. He took a long, deep breath, his chest resting flush against her back as he let go of her shoulder and gently kissed her cheek. “You always bite,” she said, reaching up to ruffle his hair.

“Never heard a complaint.”

She hummed in acknowledgement and rested her head on one of the pillows pushed aside in the midst of things. Reluctantly, Mako drew back, getting one more sharp jolt of sensation for his trouble, and settled in beside Su. They were both a mess of sweat and arousal alike, none of which seemed to matter as they curled up against one another, Su resting on her stomach while Mako watched the slow rise and fall of her chest with her breath. “I’ll have to wash the sheets again,” she said.

He nodded and pulled her closer. “Later.”


	31. Lilin (Opalsami) (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _I wish you'd write a supernatural AU fic where Asami is a demon summoned by Opal by accident, a succubus demon ;)_

Opal sat back in front of her summoning circle and took stock of everything to make sure she hadn’t missed some vital element in the book’s careful, if florid, instructions. “All right, let’s see. A chalice of onyx filled to the rim with boiled water, check. Emerald, check. Circled heptagram lined at all seven points with black candles, check. Hopefully boysenberry-scented is fine…next, the full moon against a darkened sky.”

She looked out her window again to be certain she had chosen the right evening to finesse everyone else out of the house. “Check. And now, flower and stem, one day plucked.”

The water rose dangerously above the rim of the chalice, but surface tension held it in place. She had almost everything, then. The snug black robe wasn’t strictly necessary, but she found it helped put her in the right state of mind. “One drop of blood, freshly fallen from the skin, for binding. Always with the blood.”

With a grimace, she took her sterilized dagger from its stand and pressed the tip to her little finger. “Ow, ow, this hurts so much more when you’re doing it on purpose, ow,” Opal muttered, and winced when her skin broke. A little bead of dark red blood grew on the tip of her finger, and she squeezed the skin around it to make it drip into the middle of the flower. The things she did for verisimilitude.

Opal checked her light meter once again, decided she wasn’t going to do much better without turning on her ceiling light and ruining the ambiance, and that Huan would just have to deal with whatever pictures she managed to salvage from this mess of a shoot. She went to her camera, already set up and positioned on its tripod, and snapped a few preliminary shots to see how everything would come out. Summoning rituals, appropriately enough, didn’t seem to photograph well. Her pictures were disappointingly dark apart from the seven little pinpricks of light coming off the candles, and she wondered how she could fix it apart from turning on the room lights. She had her photographer’s pride to think about, after all. Maybe drawing back the curtains to let in more moonlight? Or upping the dimmer the tiniest bit and playing with it in post? Or…or…

Her concerns were suddenly pushed very far to the back of her mind when she noticed the water was bubbling. Opal blinked, nonplussed and certain the candlelight was tricking her eyes. The ritual called for boiled water, but it had long since cooled. She slipped around her tripod and knelt down at the edge of the circle, reaching out but not quite touching the chalice. The bloodied flower sank below the water where it had been floating not a moment before. “What the—oh shit, my carpet!”

The water began to overflow the rim of the chalice in unbroken streams far in excess of what she had poured in. Opal tried to grab at the stem of the cup, but the water was scalding hot once more, and she fell on her rear from the momentum of wrenching her hand away. She backed into the side of her bed, her heart hammering in her chest as the water spreading over the circle began to rock and sway with the same sourceless wind that was bending the flames of the candles inward, toward the middle of the circle. _Fucking fuck fuck fuck…okay, you’re dreaming, Opal. You fell asleep and you didn’t actually just summon a fucking_ demon _in your bedroom_ —

She watched with wide eyes as the water began coalescing at two points, taking on the shape of feet and then long, powerful legs before joining at wide hips and a narrow waist. It was at least twenty times the amount of water the chalice had been able to hold, but thinking about that was too much of a task at the moment. The water kept taking form: a generous chest, slender but toned arms, and an ovular face that was turned uncomfortably toward her.

Opal’s breath came in short, pained gasps while she watched the water give way to taut, pale skin from the figure’s feet and continuing upward. The body was very obviously feminine, as was the face and long coif of raven hair spilling over her shoulders and down her back to her waist. Seared with terror as she was, Opal couldn’t help the pleasant twinge of desire in her belly as she let her fever dream go on.

Wearing nothing but the offered flower in her hair, the figure bent down to pick up the chalice, but not without a long, appraising look at Opal. Her eyes were the deep green of the emerald Opal had set within the circle, narrowed in careful concentration, and her lips were a fuller, darker red than any color Opal had ever seen. Even the twisted black horns growing out of her hairline did nothing to diminish her impossible and eerie beauty. With the chalice in hand, the demon swirled it twice and tipped it sideways, letting the drop of Opal’s blood linger on the rim until she licked it away with a tongue long enough to make Opal shiver. She smiled, smacking her lips after she swallowed it down, and turned her gaze once more on the girl cowering beside her bed next to the summoning circle.

“Such a sweet vintage,” the demon said. Her lips were making the right motions at the right times for her words, but Opal seemed to hear the slow, raspy voice directly in her head without any help from her ears. The greener-than-green eyes seemed to tear at her robe, ripping away the fabric until she felt naked and bare under the demon’s gaze. “Well, isn’t this a rare treat. It’s not often I get to entertain women.”

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck…”

The demon took the flower from her hair and examined it closely. “One day plucked, almost exactly. How fastidious of you. The next twenty-four hours should be great fun. Well, twenty-three hours and fifty-four minutes, but who’s counting?”

Opal’s stomach twisted in her gut as she watched the demon set the chalice aside and pad over to her bed on those long legs, hips swishing with each step. Every movement, every fleeting glance was scorching, liquid sex, and Opal could do little but watch her crawl onto the bed, propping herself up on the pillows at the front and grinning when Opal stood. Somehow her hair had fallen perfectly over the pillows and sheets, framing her already-pale face against a sea of black. “The robe was a bit much, don’t you think?” she asked. “Maybe you should take it off.”

For a moment her hand moved toward the clasp at her shoulder, agreeing through the haze in her thoughts that the robe was entirely too much, before she snapped it back to her side. “No, what the fuck are you? What do you want?”

One sharp eyebrow arched. “I’m a Lilin, a succubus, exactly what you summoned. The last woman I had called me _Asami_ , if you need a name.” She turned another hungry gaze on Opal, eking out a defiant, burning jolt from between her legs. “And I don’t _want_ anything, you’ve already paid for my binding. Though I certainly wouldn’t decline if you offered me more of that delicious blood of yours…”

“I only wanted to take some pictures,” Opal mumbled, trying to shrink inside her robes. She was suddenly aware that they were very snug around her body, and that there was nothing else under them.

The succubus—Asami—rolled her eyes. “Another dilettante, wonderful. You should have used red food dye instead of blood if you didn’t really want to summon anything.”

“I didn’t think it would actually work!” Opal reached down for the book she had abandoned, blushed furiously when she realized she was bending over with her back turned to a demon, and sprang back up. “I thought this was just some edgy shit for teenagers who wear too much eyeliner!”

“You shouldn’t dabble in forces so far beyond your ken, little Opal,” Asami purred. “You could have summoned something far less pleasant than me.”

“How—I didn’t tell you my name.”

Asami’s tongue snaked out from between her lips, the tip cradling a small red bead, and then snapped back into her mouth. “Fresh blood sings its secrets so sweetly. It’s why I know your name, that you have this house to yourself, and that you’re not going to frantically look up a banishing spell in that little book. Of course, that would have been obvious anyway. If I had robes you’d be taking them off with your eyes.”

Despite being the one with clothes on, Opal’s cheeks bloomed red in embarrassment. She didn’t think she’d been that obvious. Who _wouldn’t_ be gaping at a demon that had just materialized out of water? It was the kind of thing that demanded total attention, in her opinion. Still…it was a very pretty demon. She was sprawling out on Opal’s bed, one leg crossed teasingly over the other and exposing only the barest flash of black hair between them before giving over to the firm tone of her stomach and her generous bust. Opal’s throat suddenly felt dry. When she didn’t move for a moment, the demon sighed and dislodged herself from the comfortable position she had claimed, creeping toward the end of the bed on all fours. She got up on her knees so that she was only slightly shorter than a standing Opal and brushed at her still-red cheek. Her fingers were so pleasantly warm.

“You didn’t mean to call me. Fine. But I can’t leave until this flower wilts in twenty-four hours, so why don’t we make the most of the time we have together?” Asami asked. She leaned forward and let two fingers play at the clasp of Opal’s robe, blinking twice as she did, and Opal could have sworn that her eyes were nothing but black for an instant. “Oh, you smell divine…which I normally wouldn’t care for, but you pull it off so well.”

Opal grabbed her hand, keeping her from fiddling with the clasp but not pushing her away. She had no mind to let a demon have its way with her, but neither had she meant to summon one in the first place, and that plan had fallen through. Little sense leaving an opportunity…unseized.

“Go slow,” Opal said in quiet acquiescence, taking her hand away to let Asami at the clasp of her robes again. “I’ve never done this. With anyone, not just a demon.”

“Then I do feel a bit bad, ruining human women for you.”

However bad Asami felt, it wasn’t betrayed in her smile, and her fingers loosened the clasp all the same. Opal’s robe fell away, but she felt strangely warmer, laid bare as she was. Asami took a moment to drink in the sight of her naked body, the light brown skin and hint of muscle tone, then nodded appreciatively. “Come here, little Opal. We’ll do this all at your pace.”

She traced one finger up along Opal’s throat to the soft spot beneath her mouth, tugging her onto the bed like a puppet on a string. She climbed up, squeezing at the sheets while she was beckoned further and further forward. Every touch left fire in its wake, and Opal was fine with burning.

Subtly, so subtly that Opal wasn’t aware of it until it had happened, Asami reversed their positions, leaving the demon above her as she sank into the sheets and pillows. “What is it you’d like, my little jewel?” she asked, her voice shivering its way through Opal’s body and finding purchase as it wrapped around her heart. “Or should we find that out together?”

Opal nodded, suddenly aware of just how little she knew of what she wanted, and pitched her head upward. Asami’s lips were smooth and soft and sweet with the taste of honey, but still alive with energy and what felt like tiny shocks. Her tongue flitted forward, asking politely, and Opal parted her own lips to meet it as her body rocked with the new sensations. One arm wrapped around the small of Opal’s back, easing her upward with surprising strength. When she had to break away to breathe, Asami eased back, nibbling at her lip before shifting down the bed, kissing and suckling at her throat, her collarbones, the slight swell of her breasts. She jolted when the demon’s lips closed around one nipple, tweaking lightly with the end of her tongue and biting down ever so lightly. Her hips rolled of their own accord, long tendrils of pleasure creeping up through her chest and down to her toes. The sheets were already dampening underneath her, and Asami paused only to take in the scent of her arousal.

“Lower,” she said, almost moaning her plea. Asami complied, releasing her nipple with one last teasing bite and creeping further down the bed. She never stopped lavishing attention as she brushed past the neatly trimmed wisps of black hair between Opal’s legs, grinning with her blood-red smile before her tongue swiped downward.

Opal couldn’t help her hips shaking, or the way she pushed them forward in search of another burst of pleasure. She ran her fingers over one of Asami’s perfectly black horns, trying to guide her, but she knew she was only along for the ride and had long since relinquished control.

She could live with that.

Asami’s tongue lashed its way around her clit, taunting and teasing, moving in perfect counter when Opal tried moving her hips to close the painfully short distance. “Ah, ah,” she said, no longer bothering to keep up the pretense of using her mouth to speak. Her voice purred directly into Opal’s mind, settling as a burning warmth around her ears. “Patience is a virtue.”

“You’re a demon, what would you know about _virtue_ …”

Two long fingers trailed up and down along her sex, putting just enough pressure on Opal to announce her presence without pushing forward. Asami had the nerve to look affronted. “You have to know virtue to play with vice, but you have me reconsidering,” she said, and shifted her head down. “May I?”

She certainly wasn’t going to back out then. Opal pushed at her mouth, and Asami’s tongue withdrew from around her clit in favor of slipping lower. The first pinch of penetration stung for a moment, quickly anesthetized by the wonderful firmness of Asami’s tongue, so greedily drawing out every trace of her arousal. She shivered and shuddered as Asami’s fingers ran gently over her clit in turn, hitting upon a rhythm between her hand and her tongue, watching the ecstasy run across Opal’s face with half-lidded eyes. When her fingers relaxed, her tongue would redouble its pace until falling off and letting her fingers continue, on and on until Asami’s face shone with arousal in the low light. “Tastes even better than your blood,” she said, her voice crashing through the haze settled over Opal’s thoughts and piercing down to stroke her ego.

Her tongue curled upward, and Opal had to bite down on her lip to keep from whimpering. Asami moaned, sending the vibrations up through the slight frame of Opal’s body. The pressure thrummed and wound tight between her legs, the demon filling her to bursting as she writhed and arched her back, desperate for relief, release.

“F-fuck!”

Opal’s body refused to hold back under the steady ministrations, and Asami started when her hands tightened around the demon’s horns. Every muscle tensed tighter than she had ever felt before as the pleasure broke past its dam, her hips quavering with stimulation but unable to pull away under Asami’s grip. All her nerves went alight, her throat ached with her screaming, and it was all she could do to stay conscious as she collapsed, run ragged and sweating and so very eager for an encore.

“Such a sweet little jewel,” Asami said, drawing her tongue back and leaving a pang of emptiness in its wake. She crawled back up the bed and felt so light, despite resting right on top of Opal with her chin in the middle of her chest. An aftershock shot through her, and her body shot up against Asami’s. She cocked an eyebrow. “Oh? Do you want more?”

Opal shifted her shaking legs and wrapped them around Asami’s waist. “I want _everything_.”

The demon grinned.


	32. Empress's Service (Korvira)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Commission, Korivra, 20 years post-canon.

Kuvira grimaced as she recounted the money in her palm, fanning out the bills and setting down one of the leeks she’d selected when she realized she would be short. “Just these, then.”

The woman running the stall shrugged as she took the money and pushed the fourth leak back toward her. “Go ahead and take it,” she said. Kuvira’s lips creased into a frown. She earned her keep, and wouldn’t give anyone a reason to say otherwise.

“I’ll take what I paid for.”

“You already got dirt on it, I don’t want to take it back to wash again.”

Well, far be it from her to inconvenience an old woman. Kuvira took the extra leak, thanked her, and went off down the street. The sun blazed in her eyes, hanging halfway between its midday height and the horizon. Even if she couldn’t be completely sure, Kuvira was certain that Fire Nation summers were simply hotter than summers anywhere else. She wiped some sweat from her brow and began wondering if it had even been so hot in the border towns around the Si Wong Desert, in the old days—

She shook her head roughly and turned down a side road. Thinking of that wasn’t going to do anyone any good, least of all her. That was half a lifetime past, best it stayed there. Instead she forced her attention to her growling stomach, to the dinner she was going to have later. The market was only open for so long, forcing her to shop early and call up a tiring amount of willpower to keep from tearing in and eating some of it raw.

The house was still in the half-finished state she’d left it in, a superstructure more than anything yet habitable, and not much to look at. Kuvira set her shopping down, checked the plans she’d been given, and returned to work.

Wood was far from her favorite material to work with. It caught fire too easily, it could rot or attract termites, and the particular kind she had to work with that day was a poor insulator of heat. But disturbing the surrounding farmland in the middle of the growing season to get some nice, solid earth was out of the question, and metal wasn’t in great supply on the archipelago. She had explained it all politely to the landowner, who had somewhat less politely offered to find someone else to build the house if she couldn’t.

So she worked with wood. Kuvira wrapped three cuffs of earth around the timbers to control them, raising each into position before bending the concrete foundation to accommodate them and fix them firmly in place. It was demanding, a younger woman’s work to be sure, and her arms ached by the time the last wall was in place. She bent herself a seat for a moment’s rest before heading inside to work on the roof, when she saw the landowner’s son sitting on the fence nearby, watching with a bald and flattering interest. The village wasn’t the cosmopolitan type, tucked into the northern mountains of a smaller Fire Nation island, and she doubted many earthbenders had ever been there. Kuvira bent another seat for him at her side and beckoned him over.

“You’re not bending the wood, are you?” he asked as he sat beside her. He was a scrawny little thing, slender and red-cheeked, with his hair drawn into an amusingly antiquated topknot.

“No, only the earth I put around it. I can’t bend wood.”

“Can the Avatar?”

The little block of dirt she’d been rolling above her palm squeezed down to a tiny, dense point. Her stomach twisted strangely at the mention, and only old discipline kept her outwardly calm. “I don’t know. Ask her for me if you ever meet her.”

Kuvira stood and jabbed one heel into the ground to collapse her seat, then went inside to work on the roof.

Slotting the timbers into place between the walls and the central crossbeam was delicate work, and by the end of it her arms were trembling, her shirt was soaked through, and a stitch had taken firm root in her side. Still, it was done, and a pleasant wave of pride crested through her when she stepped back to observe the finished product. It was a solid house, it would last. Even with wood.

The occupants had only a few pieces of furniture to move back in, and Kuvira made sure it was all tastefully arranged before the rest of them returned. A few other minor improvements to the property occurred to her, but it had been made clear that she was only being paid for the house.

When the owner did return, he tried to complain about this and that, the floor being too rough in one spot or the walls not being at the proper angles, but after a few sharp words from his wife he paid the agreed-upon amount. Kuvira thanked them for the business and, money tucked safely away, started back through town, toward her small apartment.

At least, that was her plan. Back on the village’s main road, with all the vendors packing up to go home for the night, the ground rippled underneath her, a tiny disturbance beneath the notice of most people, like a pebble falling onto an enormous lake. The subtle but noticeable warp left in the wake of another skilled earthbender.

Kuvira wasn’t sure whether to mask her own signature and walk away or indulge her curiosity. It had been months since the last time she’d felt another earthbender, and the familiarity was bittersweet, a reminder of a time she couldn’t have gone more than a few minutes without sensing one.

She had done well. Served her time without complaint, been a model prisoner by any measurement. A moment of curiosity wasn’t going to undo all that. Kuvira lightly tapped her heel to the ground, searching out the presence, and almost stumbled when she found it, an impossibly bright bundle of energy far eclipsing her own.

And then Kuvira saw her.

Her hair was much longer, tied into a thick braid that fell all the way down her back, the familiar warm brown with a few tinges of early gray, but everything else was almost the same, the high-edged boots, the blue vest, the pelt wrapped around her waist that must have been absurdly warm in the present weather. Kuvira had no real doubt over what the Avatar was there for, talking to vendors in a little no-name village that most mapmakers didn’t bother to list, but that didn’t mean she had to make a spectacle of herself. She adjusted her grip on her groceries and kept walking, behind the Avatar, not hiding her face but not holding her head high, leaving her earthbending unmasked for anyone else to sense.

The hand on her shoulder didn’t surprise her, but the little hairs on the back of her neck still went up. Kuvira stopped in place, trying to control her breathing, and glanced back. A few more lines around her mouth and her bright blue eyes than Kuvira remembered, but still the Avatar. “Korra,” she said in even, measured tones.

“Hey.” Her voice still had most of its pitch, though it had dropped in places. “Can we talk?”

Kuvira jerked her head toward the far end of the street and began walking again. The Avatar said nothing else as they passed through the dwindling day market and came to the village outskirts, to a long, plain building lined with doors on the ground and upper levels. Kuvira led the way up the exterior stairs she had so carefully straightened out and to the back of the building, to the last door at the edge farthest from the village center. She ignored the keyholes and bent the steel plate in the jamb out of place, letting the door swing open with a little encouragement from her boot, and went inside.

She had measured the dusty little apartment once and found that it was one and a half foot-lengths smaller than her prison cell, but it was cheap, it had a window—one of the small luxuries that had been denied her for all those years—and she could pay by the week in case she had to leave quickly. As much home as she could hope for, at least for a little while. Kuvira nodded to the cushions on opposite sides of a low table before setting her groceries down. She folded her arms as Korra sat, guarding, waiting. “Why are you here?”

“I thought you wanted me to follow you,” Korra said simply, crossing her legs and draping her braid over one shoulder. Kuvira frowned and ran one hand up the back of her neck, where she had shorn her hair short. Most of it had grown back in enough to leave it in a tasteful, functional coif, but it was still long in her dreams.

“Don’t jerk me around. I mean _here_ , in this village. Or the Fire Nation, even.” Kuvira set a pot under her sink’s tap and started filling it. “And where are your friends? Don’t they go everywhere with you?”

“They’re still in the capital,” Korra said, gesturing vaguely westward. “We were there for the talks about trade agreements, I recused myself when they started with the Southern Water Tribe, so I have a few days off. There’s metal in that water, you know.”

“I know.”

Cheap rent came with its pitfalls. Kuvira swirled her hand over the water in the pot three times, drawing out little iron flakes with each pass and setting them into the metal sphere she kept on the counter. She lit her stove and set the pot on its burner, letting it boil while she cut up her leeks and radishes. “Now why are you here, Korra?” Kuvira asked again. “This place isn’t exactly a tourist trap.”

“I was worried about you.”

Kuvira scoffed. Her knife hammered a discordant tune into her cutting board. “Really,” Korra said, getting up from her cushion and stepping closer. Kuvira winced away, sidestepping to the opposite corner of her kitchen, but Korra put her hands out in conciliation and looked in the grocery bag. She took another knife from the drying rack beside the sink and began slicing carrots. It felt oddly domestic, tucked into such close quarters, fixings odds and ends for soup. “You took off from the Western Air Temple one day, and then you vanished from the Fire Nation capital.”

“You’re keeping tabs on me?”

“You can’t be _that_ surprised.”

She paused, her knife’s edge teasing at the skin of one radish, then pushed the blade through. “No. But I thought it’d be some White Lotus nobody doing it. So you’re my parole officer now? Should I feel flattered?”

“You don’t have to feel anything about it,” Korra said.

“Good, because I don’t,” Kuvira bit back. She dropped her knife, more roughly than she had intended, and gripped the edges of her counter. Then, in a smaller voice she said, “All I feel is empty lately.”

She wanted to reach out and snatch those words from the air, but there was no doing that. They hung there instead, among the little dust motes that drifted in and out of the bars of light from the window, mercifully unacknowledged.

Korra finished with the carrots, and Kuvira dropped everything on the cutting board into the pot. She reached around on her top shelf, found her very nearly empty salt container, and pinched out the paltry contents into her broth. “I’m guessing you won’t let me get you a proper dinner,” Korra said.

“I owe you enough already.”

“Talk to me, then.” Korra leaned against the counter, and Kuvira worried for a moment that the flimsy construction might simply give under her weight. “Why the Fire Nation?”

“The Earth Kingdom—Earth Union, whatever they’re calling it now—and the United Republic weren’t exactly options, and I’d stick out like a sore thumb in the Water Tribes,” Kuvira said. She turned up the gas on her stove. “Most people don’t look closely enough at my eyes to tell I’m foreign, or they think I’m a migrant worker. Usually I can get a month or two before someone figures out who I am.”

“Does it ever get violent?”

Rocks crashed through windows in her mind, people’s shouts rose up in a tumult. She shrugged. “Sometimes. I don’t mind that as much as when the people who figure it out are…fans.” Kuvira felt dirty at the thought, wanting to duck into her shower and scrub it away. “There are a troubling number of young imperialists in this country.”

Korra nodded. “So that’s why you’re jumping around?”

“What do you want to hear?” Kuvira asked. She turned on her heel, and some of the walls shuddered. “You don’t have much to go back to after fifteen years in prison. I tried, but it’s hard to be around people when they find out who I am. And…”

The corners of her eyes stung with heat, and she clenched her jaw until the tears inevitably began trailing down her face. “I hate it, all right? All of this. It’s too much.”

She hated the way her voice was breaking, the way it refused to listen to her as she tried to stop talking. Korra was frowning, but said nothing and let her continue.

“There’s always been a routine. When I was in Zaofu, when I was dealing with the Earth Kingdom, even in prison—and then they just turned me loose into a world that wanted nothing to do with me. This?” She waved her hand around the tiny apartment. “This is terrible. The Western Air Temple was worse, it was nothing but freedom and I couldn’t stand it. You should have let them give me life.”

Kuvira wanted to pull away when she felt Korra’s hand on her arm, but there wasn’t any room to move, and somehow she knew she wouldn’t have even if she could. “You didn’t deserve a life sentence and you know it,” Korra said softly, wiping away the tears on Kuvira’s face with her free hand. “You went a little crazy at the end there, but Raiko and Izumi shouldn’t have put all that responsibility on a twenty-four year-old. Anyone would’ve cracked under the pressure.”

She was tired, so tired as she slumped forward, against the Avatar. Korra cut the gas off, tucked one hand around her waist, and led her out of the kitchen, toward the corner of the apartment she optimistically thought of as her bedroom. Kuvira eased down onto the mattress, staring at the ceiling, and clutched at Korra’s shoulder before she could move away. “Don’t,” she breathed, as the fresh tears left lines perpendicular to the first ones. “You’re already here. Please don’t leave yet.”

Korra stared at the floor, worrying her lip between her teeth, and finally laid down beside her on the very edge of the mattress. Kuvira backed up toward the wall, settling on her side, and Korra shifted a bit closer. She ran two fingers through Kuvira’s hair. “This is a nice style.”

“Likewise. The braid is very…dignified.”

It was too generous to say she thought about what she was doing, rather Kuvira moved on impulse, leaning forward until she was close enough that their noses nearly bumped. She paused then, waiting for Korra to pull back. A heartbeat passed, then another. Neither of them moved. Korra’s fingers wound into her hair again, skirting the ridge of her ear and making her shiver. “Been a while?” Korra asked.

“Twenty years or so.”

Kuvira wasn’t sure what she wanted out of it as Korra’s lips pressed to hers, dry and warm and chapped in one spot. For once, she didn’t mind not knowing something. The hand in her hair slid down to the small of her back, pulling her closer, into Korra’s gravity. She let herself be moved, handled, turned this way and that, so utterly unsure of how to act with someone who didn’t see the Great Uniter first and Kuvira second. “Is this what you want?” Korra asked, fingers tugging at the waistband of Kuvira’s pants. “You’re sure?”

She nodded, and let Korra carry her off.

Soft morning warmth had replaced the hazy evening heat when she awoke, still in the same position on her bed. Nothing much had changed apart from a pleasant soreness in her lower body, a blanket laid over her, and a newly empty space on the other side of the bed. Kuvira was going to sigh when she heard something clatter in the kitchen. Her head spun as she bolted upright, slamming her hand into the floor by reflex to get a sense of her space, before she realized the sun had already risen and there was no need. The tension in her muscles relaxed by slow degrees.

“Oh, you’re up,” Korra said, looking over her shoulder as she ladled out the forgotten soup into a pair of bowls. “You ought to put something on, this would sting if it splashed on you.”

Kuvira blearily reached over for a set of clothes at the foot of her bed and pulled them on. “I didn’t think you’d stick around.”

“I told you, I was worried about you. That includes you eating right.”

Whatever Korra had done to her soup, she had managed to improve it. Kuvira wolfed it down in between compliments for how she had used the meager ingredients, then went to get herself a second bowl. When she sat down at the table again, Korra had produced a small bundle of letters from somewhere underneath her pelt. “Those are…?”

“For you, from the Earth Union president. She’s one of your old communications officers who stayed in Ba Sing Se. No one in the capital was sure how to get in touch with you, so they asked me to send them along. _I_ wasn’t sure if you even wanted them, with how you’ve kept away from the continent.”

“Did you read them?”

Korra grinned sheepishly and slid them across the table. “Only to make sure there was nothing in there about military appointments. That part of your parole is for life. They want help with infrastructure, and since your rail line is still in use and barely ever needs maintenance, they asked. I think you could do a lot of good there.”

“You’re not worried about me seeing my old officers and getting ideas?”

“Should I be?”

Kuvira didn’t answer.

“You know, outside of Zaofu, your reputation isn’t nearly as bad in the Earth Union as it is in Republic City,” Korra said. “You helped more people than you give yourself credit for. You don’t have to decide now, but will you at least think about it?”

Kuvira took one letter from its envelope and looked it over. Polite and formal, requesting her to fill an advisory, and strictly civilian, role in setting up better telecommunications between the states. The signature at the bottom was distantly familiar, a junior officer left in charge of the Middle Ring during the campaign. Kuvira folded up the letter and set it aside in favor of another spoonful of soup. “I’ll think about it.”


	33. Installment Plan (Junko) (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko needs the best bounty hunter he can find. June doesn't like taking IOUs.

After the third time he had nearly walked into a snare trap, Zuko was beginning to regret not listening to his uncle, or Suki, or Sokka, or any of the other people who had told him that he ought to bring some guards with him into the Earth Kingdom. But he had been stubborn and insistent, digging in his heels and not quite thinking the matter through when he ordered his entire escort to stay with the ship in the port. He actually hoped a few of them had refused to listen and were following at a distance, in case he got himself stuck in something.

He didn’t get himself stuck, and if anyone was trailing behind him they were far enough away that he couldn’t tell. It was a dark, almost moonless night, and he couldn’t see much of anything without sparking a light in his hand and outing himself as a firebender in Earth Kingdom territory. The war was over, true, but it would be a long time before those wounds healed. Finally some obviously human noise began to break through the sounds of the forest around him, a cacophony of voices in varying states of excitement. If he was on the same path as the last two times, then that was his destination.

The little inland town, tucked away from almost everything else, didn’t seem to have noticed that it was past midnight. Most of the businesses still looked to be open, and even a good portion of the houses scattered out around the town center still had candles and lamps on inside. At least he wasn’t too late to ask around. Zuko held his hood up until a gust of wind passed as he walked to the inn, then looked around among the carts and wagons out in front. There was a flash of something in the shadows between them, and before he could blink there was a very large, very angry-looking shirshu in front of him, sniffing wildly, its barbed tongue lolling out of its mouth.

“Yep, I’m in the right place,” Zuko said, and waited while Nyla continued his inspection. It didn’t seem like a good idea to push past him, not if he wanted to be able to walk and use both of his arms. One of the barbs rolled idly against his shoulder and left an uncomfortable blotch of numbness at the base of his arm. “Come on, I’m not a new smell or anything, let me in.”

Satisfied, Nyla rolled onto one side and licked at some grass near Zuko’s feet. He gave the claws a wide berth as he went for the door, stepping around drunks and other malcontents who had been put out before he could get inside.

Zuko kept a tight grip on the bag of gold pieces on his belt as he looked around the inn, avoiding the glares that not being a regular earned him. There wasn’t much need to look long, not with June sitting at her usual table in the middle of the space, building an impressive pyramid of empty cups beside a pai sho board. He took a few steps past the threshold, and when he didn’t do anything to draw attention to himself, the patrons went back to their drinks. Zuko went up to June’s table, but she couldn’t have cared less about his presence, not with the way she was focusing on the board and the pile of money next to it. Her opponent’s collar was stained with sweat, and no matter how he pressed his handkerchief to his forehead it never seemed to get any drier.

“I need to talk to you,” Zuko said.

June didn’t even spare him a passing glance. “You can wait your turn to lose like everyone else. Speaking of—” she set a wind tile down, and the man whimpered— “that’s the match. No more double or nothings, I can tell that’s all the money you have.”

Even as she was scooping up her winnings, her opponent didn’t mean to lose gracefully, and lunged across the table to try and grab as many coins as he could. “I’m not losing all my money to some stupid bitch—”

In one instant, his hand was intact and knife-free, and in the next, it wasn’t. Zuko’s eyes widened as June sank the blade into her opponent’s hand and a spray of red splattered across the front of his cloak. The conversations around them died against the man’s pained screams as he watched, horrified, while blood began running down onto the table between his fingers.

“You spend all night looking at my chest and now you want to call me a stupid _what_ when it comes back to bite you?” June asked, twisting the knife to worsen the wound before yanking it out and earning another scream. She picked up a single coin and flicked it at him, pelting him in the forehead. “The clinic down the street might be able to save your hand. If you hurry.”

Zuko looked around as the man limped out and left a spotty trail of blood behind him, waiting for someone to come up and throw her out. No one came. If anything, the people who didn’t have their faces covered looked amused, and some even raised their glasses in a twisted kind of toast while June finished gathering her prize money. She pushed a small pile into the waiter’s hands when he came to collect the cups, then added a few more for the cleanup before she got up to leave. Finally June looked at Zuko, peering under his hood, and frowned. “Great, it’s the scowling wonder. Is your creepy uncle here, too? No, he would’ve made some comment already. What do you want?”

“I have a job for you,” Zuko said, and that seemed to pique her interest. June turned toward him, unfolding her arms as she sized him up. “Is there anywhere that’s not so…out in the open?”

She cocked one eyebrow, picked up the cup she had yet to drain, and then nodded toward an open table in a corner under the stairs. With everyone going back to their drinks, Zuko followed June to the table, studying the twin dragon tattoos on her shoulders he’d never paid attention to previously. She sat and pushed out the chair on the opposite side. “I’m surprised you got away with that,” Zuko said, flexing his hand and trying to push away the image of a knife through the middle.

“The owner’s a friend. And the clinic appreciates the business. Now what’s this job that’s so important you have to interrupt my drinking time?” Jun asked, and sipped at her baijiu. She waved the waiter down for another round. “Your girlfriend run off again? I think you’ve just got to take the hint there.”

“For the last time, she wasn’t my girlfriend. I don’t even _have_ a girlfriend anymore, all right?”

That stung to hear more than he thought it would, and sulked until the drinks came. June flipped her still-bloodied knife around until she got her next round, then pushed one cup over to Zuko’s side of the table. He picked it up, found it odorless, and frowned. “ _Kanpai_ ,” June said, and emptied her cup in one swift motion. Zuko choked his down, fighting the urge to cough it up as his throat burned. “That’s better. Now what do you want? This place is a little lowbrow for the Fire Lord. Come to reminisce about your old colonies or something?”

“So you do know who I am.”

June tapped one finger beneath her left eye. “The scar’s tough to miss,” she said, and Zuko turned his head to try and hide it. Most of the time he didn’t give it much thought, apart from the occasional bit of blurriness in the left half of his vision or the harder time he had with hearing on that side, but having it pointed out so obviously made him remember. June reached over and pushed his hood back, throwing it into stark view in the candlelight around them. “Oh, don’t be like that. It’s not so bad. Well, it is, but somehow it’s almost wrapped back around to being dashing.”

Zuko felt his face burn, and he fiddled with his empty cup as the baijiu began sending a warmth blooming through his chest. “Can we get back to business, please? I need you to find someone.”

“That’s usually what people come to me for. If it’s not a girlfriend, and you’re all buddy-buddy with the Avatar now, then it’s your creepy uncle, right? I’ve got half a mind to let him stay lost…”

“It’s not my uncle. And he’s not creepy, either!” June thought about it, but shook her head as Zuko took out a picture and offered it to her. “It’s my mother.”

June took the picture and studied it, pushing with her foot on the base of the table to pitch her chair back. “Pretty. When was the last time you saw her?”

“Seven years or so…?”

It was fortunate that she wasn’t drinking right at that moment, or Zuko was sure she would have spit it out and right onto him. June flicked the picture back to him. Her chair fell back onto all four legs, and she looked to be somewhere between disbelief and amusement. “Are you kidding me? Nyla’s good, but he has limits. I thought you were going to say a few weeks, maybe a month or two, but seven years? Scents don’t last that long. And don’t tell me that the fate of the world depends on this, I already did that for you and you only get one of those.”

She wasn’t putting him on, he could tell that much. Zuko leaned forward and fumbled around for the gold on his belt. “Please, everyone says you’re the best at this. I can make it worth your while.”

“I _am_ the best, but I’m not sure that you can make this worth it. We’re not talking about letting Nyla sniff some of her clothes and heading off, this would be serious investigative work, I’d have to retrace seven years’ worth of movement. Collecting evidence, talking to people, following leads…that’s not really what I do, Your Fieriness. Honestly, Nyla makes the effort most of the time, I just take the credit.”

Zuko took the pouch from his belt and put it on the table. June pulled the drawstring loose and looked inside, lips pressing into a thin line, then pushed it back toward him. “Not to brag, but I can make this in a month or two,” June said with a frown. She reached up and tucked back the hair that had been hiding one eye. “You’re asking for at least a year out of my life in the Fire Nation, hunting down someone who might be…you know.”

An unpleasant tightness settled in Zuko’s chest. He wasn’t going to entertain that thought, he couldn’t. And neither could he walk away with nothing to show for his trip into the Earth Kingdom. He looked at the bag of gold pieces on the table between them, but didn’t take it back. “So what is this job worth to you?” he asked.

She considered his question for a moment, then tore off a small piece of a banner on the wall and produced a travel brush set from a strap on her thigh. June wet the brush, dipped it in her inkwell, and wrote a figure on the fabric before folding it in half and sliding it over to him. Zuko took the scrap and blanched. “I could field a small army for this much.”

“So do that. Like I said, this isn’t my specialty.”

“I don’t even have this much on the ship,” Zuko said under his breath, and wracked his brain for some kind of solution. One hand ran up into his hair. “I can give you this to start and pay you the rest once we’re in the Fire Nation—in installments.”

June folded her arms and swept her gaze over him again, frowning all the while. “What do I look like, a bank? I don’t take credit, not even from Fire Lords. I’ve been burned too many times to ever fall for that again.”

“Do you think I _can’t_ pay you the rest?” Zuko asked, affronted.

“You tell me. A hundred years of war can’t have left your treasury overflowing. I’m surprised you were able to scrape together this much to throw away on me, really.”

Zuko pressed one finger to his temple, rubbing in slow circles as he tried to figure something out. “I’m not trying to pay you out of the treasury, this is my money. But fine, I’ll come back with the rest,” he said, and tucked the pouch back under his cloak. Zuko stood and tried to work out in his head just how many of his belongings he’d have to sell to keep himself out of bankruptcy. “I’m sure I can find you here, it doesn’t seem like you ever leave unless someone pays you.”

He went to walk past her, but June put a hand on his chest to still him. The scar there twinged, but he only looked down at her. “You’re really willing to pay that ridiculous price without even trying to haggle me down a bit?” she asked.

“I don’t haggle.”

“Oh, that’s a shame. Because I could see doing this if you gave me what you have now and a…generous tip,” June said, and raked her hand a short way down the front of his cloak.

Zuko tried to take a step back, but she tightened her grip on the fabric. “I told you, that gold is everything I have on me.”

“You really _are_ single-minded, aren’t you? I’m not talking about money.”

Her voice had dipped to a low, languorous tone, and Zuko felt his face go red as she made her point clear by letting her hand drift down further, to his waistband. June smirked, and a hint of teeth showed at one side of her mouth. “I have to say, it’s wounding my pride a little to see all the blood in your body rushing to your face and not elsewhere. But any night I can ruffle a few noble feathers is a good one in my book—”

“Fine.”

Zuko wasn’t sure who was more surprised, him for managing to choke something out, or her for him having said it. And for her teasing, only half of the blood in his body was now devoted to blushing. Her eyebrows arched, and she loosened her grip on his cloak. For his part, Zuko stared at the slats of the floor until she pushed his chair out again. He sat and tried not to look June in the eye as every last bit of skin burned in embarrassment. “You know I was joking, right? Just haven’t had a good lay since the war ended. I don’t do virgins.”

“I’m not a virgin,” he said, jumping to his own defense faster than he intended. “It’s not like I haven’t done…that. I have. Once.”

“It’s like leading a little tiger monkey around, it really is…all right, you know what? I’ll take the job. Give me what you have on you now, I’ll find you in the Fire Nation to get the rest.” She reached across the table and tore off a bit of his cloak. “Well, Nyla will find you.”

“Really?”

“Yes? I told you, he does the work, I take the credit.”

“No, I mean—why’d you change your mind?”

June rolled the scrap of fabric between her fingers and chuckled under her breath. “It’s not bad business to have the Fire Lord indebted to you, and this is an interesting job. Maybe I’ll even end up enjoying it. Plus,” she said, checking to make sure her cup was completely empty, “there’s something kind of endearing about it. Strip away all the trappings and titles, and you’re just a kid looking for his mom. I certainly wouldn’t pay a small fortune to find my parents, or actually offer up my body to seal the deal, so—I don’t know. I don’t need to explain myself to you. I said I’d do it, isn’t that enough?”

“Yes,” Zuko said, and let out a long breath. He handed her the pouch. “Thank you.”

“Let’s be clear, this is for my time, not any result. You have me on a trail that’s about as cold as ice. I’ll need a few days to get my things together and then get over to the Fire Nation, so you can give me the rest of the details at the palace.”

“Fine.”

“Now, about my tip…”

It was fortunate that he was sitting, otherwise he was sure he would have fallen over. June nodded up at the second-floor walkway above them, then put a few copper pieces on the table to pay for the drinks. “Admittedly, like any tip, it’s optional. I said I was going to take your job, and I am. So I’m going to my room now, it’s the last one at the end of the row upstairs. You’re welcome to join me, Your Fieriness.”

He could have taken a few moments to think about it, but Zuko knew that the next best prospect he had for the night was his hand, alone, in his cabin on the ship. And she was far from unattractive. Jun grinned when they stood and he followed her toward the stairs.

“And here I was, thinking it’d be another boring night…”

Zuko’s heart pounded in time with each step he climbed, then kicked against the wall of his chest when they were out of easy sight of the bar and Jun grabbed his forearm to lead him on. Her thumb rolled against his wrist until she stopped at the last door overlooking the bar to retrieve a key. “I hope you aren’t expecting me to use any fancy titles or anything,” June said as she let him walk inside and locked the door behind them. “…Zuko.”

He didn’t have time to turn around before June was behind him, pressing into his back, her hands wrapping around his waist. There was a twinge at the base of his cock, and he could feel himself getting painfully hard as her lips grazed his neck. “Oh, you’re shaking…just relax, this should be fun for you, too. You said you’ve done this once, didn’t you enjoy yourself then?”

June’s hands trailed down until one settled over his cock and squeezed, and Zuko was shocked he managed to muster up any reply. “Y-yeah.”

“Good. Clothes off.”

She let go of him, and Zuko winced from the absence of her touch as she walked around him to the bed, unfastening the buckles that held her outfit in place as she did. Zuko halfheartedly pulled his cloak off and tossed it aside, but he too transfixed at seeing her disrobe to continue. The tight black fabric around June’s torso went slack, and she let it hang there loosely as she pulled off her sleeves and her boots. She didn’t lack for scars of her own, Zuko saw, with old darkened lines crisscrossing the wiry muscle on her arms and legs. And he still wanted her, so…he could believe she didn’t mind his eye all that much.

Once all of her clothes were lying in a pile, she looked over her shoulder and frowned. “Not good at following directions?” she asked.

“I, ah…”

“That’s all right. I’m good at giving them.”

June turned back to him, and Zuko was treated to the sight of the rest of her body before she came over and pulled his tunic over his head. Her fingers traced over the lightning burn on his chest for a moment before hooking into his waistband and tugging. Zuko flushed with embarrassment despite himself as he stepped out of his pants, then again when June bit her lip and ran a finger along the length of his cock. “Well, aren’t you healthy…please tell me you know how to eat a girl out.”

“I’m a fast learner,” he said, struggling to keep his voice even while her thumb wound over the head of his cock.

“Well, I guess that’s the second best answer I could’ve hoped for. Bed. Time for a lesson.”

Rather than let him move on his own, June dragged him over to the bed and pulled him down with her, shuffling around until she was propped up on the pillows and he was prone between her legs, watching the firm tone of her stomach rise and fall with her breaths. His gaze trailed down, through the small patch of hair between her legs and to her sex, shining slightly with arousal. June eased her fingers along the sides until she had exposed a small reddish bud near the top. “Tongue, clit, you get the idea. I get off pretty easily, so— _mmn_!”

Zuko didn’t wait for her to finish before dipping down and running his tongue up to her clit. A breathy little moan worked out of her, and she ran her hand into his hair and tugged from side to side. “All right, so you know that much…fuck, you firebenders have warm mouths…”

He wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked lightly, flitting his tongue as he wrapped his hands around her legs. June’s hips rolled up toward his mouth, and her legs pressed into the sides of his head. “Right there, that’s a good boy,” she said as her back arched. “Use your fingers?”

Her breath hitched as if it was a question, but he knew it was an instruction. Zuko’s whole body twitched with excitement as June took one of his hands and guided it under his chin, at the folds of skin now slick with arousal. He swirled one finger under her direction, then pushed inside.

The effect was immediate. June’s hand snapped away to grip at the bedsheets, and her legs tightened around her head. All the wet heat around his finger clamped down, and Zuko had to keep from rocking against the bed for some semblance of friction. “Curl your finger up,” June said breathlessly, then whimpered when he did so. “There, that’s—fucking— _fuck_!”

Zuko felt her tremble around him and fall back onto the bed, spent for the moment. She actually giggled under her breath as she nudged his head back, then whimpered again once he took his hand away. He slipped his finger into his mouth to taste her arousal, bitter with a tinge of underlying sweetness, and June grinned. “Oh good, you’ve got the idea for the next part.”

“What?”

June sat up and beckoned him further up the bed. There was a thin sheen of sweat across her chest, and Zuko chanced to lean down and kiss away a small bit on her collarbone. She didn’t push him away at that, or at his hand sliding up to the swell of one breast. “Lie down, get yourself comfortable. And keep an open mind.”

She didn’t elaborate, but Zuko obeyed regardless, settling onto his back while she pushed his legs apart and settled between them. It wasn’t a position he had gotten to try, but it seemed to be a night for new things. He was beginning to worry about his own stamina when she gripped the base of his shaft, rolling her hand slowly up and down, not in any kind of rush. Zuko tried to move his hips in counter to her strokes, but she pushed him back down.

“Don’t rut like an animal,” June said, then leaned forward and brushed the fingers of her free hand over his lips. “Open up, Zuko. And trust me when I say you’ll want these nice and wet.”

He opened his mouth slowly to let her in, sucking on her fingers and running his tongue over each of them in turn. June’s hand sped up, enough to send a thin flow of arousal down his shaft and toward her thumb. Zuko moaned, toes curling, and gasped when she took her fingers away from his mouth. “Good, good. Remember what I said about an open mind?”

June’s hand slipped out of view, toward her lap, and Zuko started in her grip when her fingers prodded at his ass. She smirked. “What’re you—”

“Just trust me, all right? Relax. This is going to feel great for you.”

Misgivings and ragged breaths aside, Zuko willed out the tension in his body, focusing on the feeling of June’s other hand building up the pressure at the base of his cock. There was a short flash of heat as she slipped one finger into him, then another, and the lamp near the bed flared as he groaned. Zuko gripped at the bedsheets when she pushed in a little further and prodded at something that sent a jolt through his whole body. A slow stream of arousal leaked out and landed on his stomach. He tried to say something, but it only came out as an embarrassingly long moan that made June’s eyes widen. Her hands sped up, playing at his insides in time with her strokes, and Zuko felt the pressure start to mount unbearably. Writhing into the sheets and biting his lip didn’t help, and his hips bucked desperately against her as his legs wrapped around her. “June—I’m—”

“You’re gonna come?”

He couldn’t nod quickly enough. Another jolt fired through him, and June took her hands away. His expectant look did nothing to make her touch him again, even as his cock began to throb with the beginning of his orgasm. June leaned forward to pin his wrists down when he tried to finish himself off, and he could only pound ineffectually at the bed underneath him. “Ah, ah, let it happen,” she said as his cock gave one last needful twitch.

Wet, sticky warmth ran down the length of his cock and onto his stomach as a wave of pleasure crested over him. There was a twinge of protest at the lack of stimulation, but his body was beyond caring. He fell into his own world for a moment, disregarding everything but pure sensation until he came down from the rush. Every breath was shallow and quick, deepening only when he looked around and saw that June had gone into the washroom. His head dropped back onto the pillows as she came out with a wet cloth to clean him up.

“Why’d you—” Zuko winced as she ran the cold cloth around his cock and up the shaft— “why’d you stop?”

“I want you to be good to go again in a few minutes,” June said, and tossed the cloth away once she was satisfied with her work. “That’s the best way to do it. Besides, you still got to come, didn’t you? And I’d bet some of my advance that it was one of your better ones.”

That didn’t need arguing, he thought. June waited until he sat up to brush some hair from his face and shifted closer to him. “Good to go again, huh?” he asked, setting one hand on her hip.

“I only wanted to take the edge off, maybe introduce you to a few things.” June swept a hand over her body before it settled between her legs. “Now, I don’t care where your mouth starts, but I want it to end up here— _oh_!”

She hadn’t been expecting him to kiss her, that was obvious, but June leaned into it all the same, parting her lips as soon as his tongue flitted across him. For a few moments her unflappable demeanor crumbled, nails raking over his back as she held him against her in a tight embrace, pushing back on his tongue with hers until they broke apart for air. Another heady bit of pleasure pooled under his stomach, and June tilted her head to let him nip at her ear and down along her throat.

“This is how I should’ve gotten paid the first time…”

Zuko kept trailing downward, nibbling at her collarbone and then her breasts, catching one nipple between his teeth and nipping until a low moan rolled through her chest. June’s hands stroked his back until Zuko went lower, nudging her legs apart as he kissed at the tone of her stomach. They ultimately switched places again, June leaning back and propping herself up on her elbows to watch with Zuko in front of her, running his fingers down ahead of his mouth to circle her clit.

“You _are_ a quick study,” she said, and pushed his head down.

Rather than try the same thing, Zuko dipped a bit lower, leaving his thumb to ghost over her clit while his tongue ran against her sex. June twitched, half a gasp escaping her throat, before she laid one leg over his shoulder to keep him in place. She didn’t seem to mind the change, if the arousal on his lips and chin was any indication. Her taste was working into his brain, both intoxicating and pulling him down to a razor-sharp focus. A hand tugged at his hair again, pulling him this way and that, until her hips started to roll almost too fast for him to keep up.

June came apart much easier the second time, in a long, low burn rather than the explosion of her first time. She still ran through a string of curses dirty enough to make Zuko blush again, but hearing her pleasure so obviously, combined with her scent and her taste, was enough to send a stiffness through his cock.

“Good show,” June said as they sat up, still out of breath. Zuko wiped his mouth dry, and her gaze went plainly down to his lap. “All right, on your back again. Don’t worry about me repeating myself, I won’t stick anything up your ass this time.”

Zuko mumbled out his response to that, but the way his cock twitched was more telling. “I…I guess I wouldn’t mind that so much…”

There was the most self-satisfied grin on June’s face as she got up and kissed him again. “That’s very good to know. But right now it looks like you’re going to burst, so—” One finger tapped against his cock— “you need a proper release. On your back, Your Majesty.”

Her voice was dripping with sarcasm when she hung on his title, but Zuko didn’t have a mind to do anything but obey. June ran her hands along the backs of his thighs, gripping at the sensitive skin, until she pushed them forward and into his chest. Short, hot breaths escaped his lips as she climbed on top of him, putting her weight on his legs to keep them in place. June grabbed his cock, let it throb twice in her hand, and then plunged herself down on him.

If she hadn’t taken the edge off earlier, Zuko thought, he wouldn’t have been able to hold out. June was blazing hot, gripping him tight, and the way her lips silently parted as she adjusted to him would’ve made his hips snap, had she not been on top of him. One of her hands drifted down between her legs, fingers swishing in small circles as they got used to the feeling of each other. “Better than my hand?” she asked, breathless.

“Yeah…”

There wasn’t anything else he could manage. Every last scrap of cogency was devoted to feeling June, the silky heat pressing down on his cock, her calves on his legs, and even that failed when she started to move. Her hips rocked up and down, a slow and hypnotizing rhythm, leaving Zuko to look reverently up at her ecstasy. June reached down and tapped at his chest until he could summon some kind of focus. “Tell me when you’re close, all right? I’m pretty sure it’s safe today, but—just tell me.”

Zuko nodded before his head rolled back and June planted her hands on his chest. Every time she came back down and took him to the hilt, another jolt ran through the length of his cock and through his whole body, making the pressure build and letting a few embers spark up with his breaths.

It was a slower approach the second time, but soon Zuko could feel himself holding on for dear life as Jun’s rhythm ran him ragged. The tight coil in his belly was going to snap, and sooner rather than later. Zuko tried to get back to coherence and reached forward to nudge her frantically. “June…”

“Are you gonna come again?”

“Yeah—ah!”

Rather than pull him over the edge, June stopped in her tracks, pushing her hips to his, and smiled when he whined in complaint. He tried to roll back and get some friction, but their position made it impossible. “Can I hear you beg a little?” June asked, drawing her hands away to grip at his ankles. “Just a little bit.”

If his pride wanted him to scoff, he didn’t listen. “Please,” Zuko choked out, his strangled voice ringing out through the room. “Please keep going, I’m begging you…fuck, _please_ , June!”

“Think you woke the neighbors with that one,” June said, and gave in. Her hips snapped up, then back down, and it only took a few quick strokes before his body refused to take any more and crashed over the edge. Zuko bit down on his hand to keep from moaning as his body twitched and jerked under its own power, until he was completely spent. Every inch of him was so oversensitized that he started when June eased off of him and let him uncurl from the shape she’d pressed him into, then again when she squeezed his arm. “And who says royals aren’t good for anything…I’ll be right back.”

She slipped into the washroom again, leaving Zuko free to stretch his legs out and try to get his breath back. It wasn’t how he planned on having his night going, but he would be mad to complain.

“Now that was a good lay,” June said when she returned and flopped down on the bed beside him. She didn’t bother gathering her clothes, and instead just let herself sprawl out over the sheets. “I’m not sure I believe that you’ve only done that once. Whatever, one of the better lies I’ve heard. Do you want to stick around?”

“Shouldn’t I?” he asked.

“It’s not like I can tell you what to do.”

Zuko didn’t need to think about it. He rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around June, and got a surprised little sound out of her as he nestled his cheek into her shoulder. “I didn’t see this coming, the Fire Lord’s a cuddler. I’m usually not.” Still, June didn’t shift away, and only kicked the covers up so she could pull them into place without moving. “Maybe just this once.”

⁂

The morning came far too soon, and Zuko woke up to a bar of light from the window landing perfectly on his face. He groaned and sat up, only to have his clothes tossed at his head. “Hey!”

“Rise and shine, kid. Come on, get up, I’ve got to get you back before the Fire Nation army starts hunting for you.”

That thought snapped him into coherence, and he could only wonder what his guards were doing now that he’d been gone all night. June was already dressed, and she watched with plain interest as he pulled his clothes on. “So give me a week or two to settle up here, then I’ll find you in the capital,” June said. “You’ll have my gold?”

“I’ll have your gold, don’t worry.”

He got up off the bed and turned to arrange the sheets, only to have June press into his back and nip at the crook of his neck. A shiver worked its way through him. “Of course, if you want to work out some kind of alternative payment, I could see about accepting it in…installments.”


	34. To New Opportunities (Kuvirasami)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-canon Kuvira has to take an exceedingly awkward meeting with Miss Asami Sato.

“I can’t take this meeting. You must have someone else— _anyone_ else. Sending me in there will crater any kind of agreement we might get.”

President Xi folded her arms, looked down at the folder Kuvira had pushed back across the table, and sighed. “There really isn’t anyone else. I try to keep you away from anyone from the United Republic, you know that. But four ministers and their deputies are out in the states surveying the new borders, most of my assistants have the flu, and I have the southern governors beating down my door for this meeting I’ve put off three times,” she said. “You’ve gotten through these meetings before with United Republic citizens, what’s different about this one?”

Kuvira leaned into the couch and rolled her sleeves back down to her wrists. The president, one of her old communications officers who had been left in charge of the Middle Ring during the campaign, waited for her to collect herself. “It’s complicated,” she said, and pinched the bridge of her nose. “No, it’s actually simple. I killed her father.”

Xi let out a long breath and then pressed her lips together in a thin line. “You have got to be kidding me…”

“I’m afraid I’m not. It was their strongest argument for trying me there and not here. Miss Sato wasn’t happy when they lost that appeal. Can’t I deal with the governors instead? I put most of them in power anyway.”

“That’s exactly why you can’t deal with them, there’s a labyrinth of regulations in your parole agreement about that. I can have this pushed back, tell her the staffer she was supposed to meet with got sick. It’s true anyway. I’ll have to stall until there’s someone else available. But we need this investment, Kuvira. Our credit is stretched to the limit with the Fire Nation and Water Tribe banks, if we keep going like we’ve been going the United Republic could just buy us out this time next year—”

“No, I’ll do it.” Kuvira pitched her head back and stared at the ceiling. She hated the mural that had been painted up there, detailing a battle during the campaign that she’d commissioned in a vainer moment. “I’ll do it.”

“Look, I appreciate your willingness to fall on your sword here, but you’re more likely to destroy this deal than get it. Like you said. How would you even handle that? ‘Sorry about the invasion and killing your father’?”

“Just tell me what office suite she’s using. I’ll make it work.”

With no small reluctance, the president surrendered the briefing folder again, and Kuvira left while she steeled herself for whatever lashing she had to take. It was going to be bad, that was a given, the only question was how bad. Suddenly she wished it was five years past again, when they were fighting block by block to the Upper Ring. That would have been easier.

The people she passed gave her some polite acknowledgment, but it was terse at best. It made sense, her position was unclear in the otherwise transparent government structure, but it still felt colder than usual. Maybe they knew. Kuvira forced her feet to stop in front of the right office, knocked twice before she could run away, and opened the door.

Asami looked as she had at the pretrial hearings two years prior, hair perfectly coiffed, every last piece of clothing tailored, makeup expertly applied. Kuvira expected the same scowl to come back too once she saw who had come in, but she only mirrored the neutral expression she was getting.

“Miss Sato.”

“Kuvira?” she asked, rising slowly out of her seat. By the time she was standing, Kuvira could see that she was slightly taller, and the step forward she took only made that more obvious. No matter how she wanted to wilt and slink out of the office, Kuvira held her ground. This was about what the Earth States needed, not her comfort. “You’re the Minister for Rural Development?”

“He’s sick, half of the government is. And President Xi didn’t have anyone else to take this meeting. She checked, believe me…I looked over the file, I understand you’re interested in opening a few factories in the new border states?”

It was the only way she knew how to get through business, right to the point. Dithering would only let their thoughts drift to the past, and that would as good as kill the deal she had to make. Asami still looked like she was on the back foot, so for a very brief moment Kuvira had the advantage. She looked down at the folder again. “And that you were planning to take advantage of the tax breaks we planned on offering. Half the usual rate for two years.”

Asami was silent for a long moment, then reached into her bag and took out her own folder. “Yes, that’s right. Do you have the list of provinces and what resource deposits are available?”

By some stroke of good fortune, they kept from straying into the past. Asami had a responsibility to her shareholders, and Kuvira had a responsibility to her country. They hit a snag when Kuvira mentioned the power infrastructure and brought up spirit vines as an energy source, but they managed to move past it.

“And slashing the taxes in half is the best you can do?” Asami asked.

“That’s the offer for everyone.”

“Everyone, right.” Asami flipped some of her hair back and finally gave Kuvira more than a consciously neutral look, something…almost predatory. “We both know that I’m _everyone_. Nobody else is investing in your country.”

Kuvira’s eyes narrowed. “I beg your pardon?”

“They might be my competition, but I do talk to them,” Asami said, cherry-red lips turning up in a smirk. Her hand fell beside Kuvira’s and idly flicked at her shirt sleeve. “I had people tripping over themselves to return my calls when I asked about setting up factories in the border region. And not staffers—ministers. Elected officials. Now the president is so desperate for this deal that she sent you in here to try and close it, despite what she must know about our past. So I’m not really interested in what the offer for _everyone_ is, and if you want my money before your whole country goes under, you shouldn’t be, either.”

“I…I’m sure the president won’t mind if I invoke some flexibility here,” Kuvira said, fighting the urge to grind her teeth. Asami hadn’t been taken aback at all, she realized. She had simply been reworking her strategy. If she hadn’t been on the receiving end of it, Kuvira would have admired that. “So let’s make a deal.”

“Yes, let’s.”

Asami went through the agreement methodically, leaving some parts untouched and marking up others with a red fountain pen. Kuvira followed along as she worked, all the while adding up the new numbers in her head to see if it would come anywhere close to covering what they needed. It seemed that Asami had the same thing in mind—no one wanted the country to collapse again—and kept from bleeding them too deeply. “Well,” Asami finally said when she’d gotten through the last page, “I think I’ll play up how long this took to the board of directors, but they ought to be happy with what we’ve got here. And it should keep you afloat long enough to attract other investors. Do you actually have the authority to sign this, or…?”

“I’m here in a strictly advisory capacity. No office, no title. I have to pass this up to the president tomorrow, with any luck she’ll have a heart attack before she can chew me out about the barrel you have us over here.”

Kuvira thought she saw a grin as Asami leaned back in her chair. “Not before she signs anything, I hope. But I guess that’s everything for the night. Now where’s a good place around here to get a drink?”

“Around here?” Kuvira asked as she rolled her neck and rumpled her collar in the process. “There’s Qiu’s, it’s mostly a government crowd. It’ll probably be nearly empty tonight with the way everyone has the flu.”

“Sounds good to me.” Asami stood and stretched as she walked, but then stopped at the door and looked back at Kuvira, still in her seat, tapping one finger to her temple. “Aren’t you coming?”

“Me? You want to go drinking with _me_?”

“Well, I don’t know my way around the capital,” Asami said, waving vaguely at the windows overlooking Ba Sing Se on the other side of the room. “I suppose I could just go back to my hotel room for the night and think about what else I could get out of this agreement—”

“All right, all right. It’s this way.”

Kuvira picked up her jacket from where she’d left it, but slung it over one shoulder rather than put it back on to face the warm summer night. Asami stayed by her side as they left the executive building, close enough that they nearly bumped into one another when they turned onto the next road. The streetlights had come on, throwing long shadows ahead of and behind them as they walked the short distance to the bar.

There were only a sparse handful of patrons in Qiu’s, which Kuvira was grateful for. She didn’t want much of an audience when Asami inevitably blew up at her. Suddenly she was following as Asami led them to a corner booth, tucked away from everything else.

“What do you drink?” Asami asked.

“I usually don’t.”

“Even when you manage to keep your government solvent for another year?” Kuvira started in her seat when she felt Asami’s foot run up her inseam. “Treat yourself. I insist.”

All at once she became painfully aware of how uneven her breathing had become, and it took a conscious effort to rein herself in, Asami watching from behind half-lidded eyes all the while, before their waiter came. “Kaoliang, neat,” Kuvira choked out. Asami’s foot tapped against her thigh.

“Oh, the hard stuff. Baijiu, please.”

They waited in determined silence until their drinks came, until Asami raised her glass. “To new opportunities,” Asami said.

Kuvira let out a long breath. She didn’t have one shred of an idea about what Asami was doing, but if it kept her in a good mood…she picked up her glass and brought it to Asami’s with a _clink_. “To new opportunities.”

Strangely, Asami not bringing up the past only worsened the pit in Kuvira’s stomach as they finished their drinks, then ordered a second round. Instead, she only talked about the factories she was interested in opening, detailing her plans for helping with developing the infrastructure in the states farther from the capital. Kuvira listened, but she couldn’t bring herself to seem attentive, and only stared into the bottom of her glass while she made no resistance to the foot still skirting around her thigh. Asami gently nudged her hand. “Yuan for your thoughts?”

“Are we just going to leave this hanging over us for the whole night?” Kuvira asked, forcing herself to look up and hold Asami’s gaze. “Or are you waiting to drop it on me?”

“What?”

“What, you know _what_ , your…your father,” she said, mumbling out the words. Asami stiffened up, but said nothing, and Kuvira went on to keep from lapsing back into painful silence. “It’d be one thing if you stayed professional, I could deal with that, but now you’ve dragged me out for drinks and I’m almost certain you’re flirting with me.”

The foot on her thigh drew away, and Kuvira felt a small stab of sadness for its loss. Asami frowned. “I helped put him in jail, you know,” she said. The soft velvet in her voice faded in favor of bare honesty. “I’ve had longer than you might think to cope with him not being in my life. I wanted to hate you for what you did, especially after I found out they all but gave you a government job here, but—that’s not what I felt when I saw you today. My father was able to change in the end, I want…I have to believe that you can, too.”

She rested one hand in the middle of the table, palm upturned, and Kuvira loosely grasped her fingers. A pleasant bloom of warmth crept up her arm. “I think it’s more than I deserve, but I appreciate your vote of confidence,” she said, and let a small smile show through on her lips. “And the flirting? Last I heard, you were spoken for.”

Asami sighed and shook her head. “These things don’t always work out.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Are you?”

Her foot brushed against Kuvira’s leg again, and she shivered. “Maybe I’m not _that_ sorry.”

Asami grinned as she turned away to pull out some money to cover their bill. “I think that’s enough, any more and I’ll regret it in the morning. So, are you going to be polite and walk me to my hotel, or do I have to go alone?”

“I wouldn’t dream of being discourteous,” Kuvira said, throat terribly dry.

There was no way Asami couldn’t have found the bar herself, Kuvira realized, as she led the way along the Upper Ring’s streets with practiced ease. She’d been played. Kuvira laughed under her breath when they came to the hotel. She’d never been so happy to have been played.

The pit in her stomach dissolved in favor of a nervous flutter in her heart as Asami guided her through the lobby, into the elevator, and up to the penthouse. It was only when her door was wide open and she was on the threshold that Asami stopped and turned around, looking at Kuvira with a little more color in her cheeks than before. “So,” Asami said.

“So.”

“First, I want to say that I’m going to sign that agreement tomorrow no matter what happens next, in case you think I’m trying to…pressure you.”

“That’s good to know, thank you. What happens next?”

Asami reached forward and slipped a finger under one of Kuvira’s suspenders, running it up and down on the fabric before she took a step closer. “Next…I’m going into my room and taking a shower. You’re welcome to join me,” she said, and eased back across the threshold. Kuvira swallowed hard and tried not to inadvertently warp the metal wall sconces nearby. “Or not. Close the door either way.”

She disappeared further into the suite and left Kuvira on the threshold, simmering until she made up her mind. The dull hum of rushing water masked the sound of the door falling shut and Kuvira kicking her shoes off.

**Author's Note:**

> You may also enjoy my other stories:
> 
> [No Gods, No Masters](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3721117) \- What if the Red Lotus managed to kidnap an infant Korra? (Finished!)  
> [Kyoshi: Swan Song](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5248682) \- Avatar Kyoshi recounts her life to Korra. (In Progress!)  
> [Izumi Week 2016](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6553468) \- Prompts for the best Fire Lord ever.  
> [Burn It Out](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6463846) \- A oneshot gift for [HenryMercury](http://archiveofourown.org/users/HenryMercury) about Korra meeting a different old lady in Book 4.  
> 


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